The Unexpected
by blahicantthinkofaname
Summary: ATTENTION: This story is getting completely re-written. You can find it on the account DefZeppelin, the link is in the bio for this account. Stiles/OC
1. Discontinued

**UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE.**

I know that I have left his story alone for a WHILE. And most of you guys are probably angry or annoyed with me. But, alas, here I am. Alive and kicking, writing more than ever.

I will be re-writing and quite possibly continuing story on another account. I will leave the link for that new account in the bio on this account so that you will be able to find it easily.

Hopefully, I am still able to hold on to a few old readers and gain as many as I've lost and more.

I'm so sorry, again.


	2. Prologue

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Prologue_

* * *

_**Destiny **__is a __**bizarre **__thing._

_Destiny is __**strange **__because it possesses the control to decide __**everything **__that happens in your life._

_But, it __**doesn't**__._

_Well, not __**all the time**__._

_Sometimes, it __**sits idly by**__. Watching. Waiting. _

_But, sometimes it works it's magic like a __**phantom**__. Quietly. Behind closed doors. Under the tables. Away from prying eyes who wish to know the __**secrets**__. Away from people who try to have their own hand in their __**fate**__._

_Sometimes, destiny does it's work out in the __**open**__. For everyone to see. Like a street __**magician**__. So people can spectate. __**Watch**__. __**Listen**__. __**Study**__._

_It's also strange because sometimes, you don't even know that destiny interviened until __**after the fact**__._

_When you look back and realize it was destiny that brought you to that __**place**__. To that __**restaurant**__. To that __**table**__. To that __**street**__. _

_When you realize that __**nothing **__you could have done would have changed what the __**outcome **__was._

_But __**sometimes**__. Destiny is just that._

_**Destiny**__._

_**And Destiny's job is to be unexpected.**_


	3. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Chapter One: __**"But That's None of My Business." Is Exactly What Destiny Didn't Say**_

_[partially re-written]_

The sun peeked in through the eggshell blinds-if they could be called that, since they rarely ever did their job due to the fact that multiple blades were missing-dressing the window and onto the restless blonde's sleeping face. Her eyes cracked open delicately, slowly adjusting to the blinding sun. A groan escaped her throat while she threw the covers to the side of the bed with an agitates flick of the arm.

Her legs swung over the side of her twin bed and onto the dense carpet floor. She could barely maneuver her way around the small room, there were cardboard boxes scattered all around the floor. Some containing clothes. Some containing random nick-knacks. Some just storing junk. One of her small, pale feet made sure to kick an especially bothersome box in front of her dresser. She reveled in the sound of shattering glass.

She quickly traded her sweats and sleeping shirt for a pair of skinny, blue jeans and a clean, grey t-shirt that had Beacon Hills High School logo printed on the front in maroon. And since there was nothing she could do about her wildly curly blonde hair-since she didn't have nearly enough time to run her mother's straightener through it-she pulled it up into a hair tie. Her fingers briskly grappled for her black backpack off the floor beside her door before she bolted to the kitchen and popped two pieces of bread into the toaster.

"Oh," she heard from behind her. "Cara, I thought you were Steve." Her mother, Susan, said as she pulled a bowl out of the cupboard behind her. Cara heard the sound of cereal clanking onto the plastic while she waited for her toast.

"Disappointed?" Cara mused, grabbing all the fixings she wanted for her toast. She noticed there wasn't any butter on the counter or in the fridge. "We're out of butter."

"I'll grab some today on my way home from-" she stopped short, remembering sharply how much her daughter hated hearing about her nightly trips to the bingo hall and the bar. She winced guiltily, looking at Cara's back from the dining room table.

"The bar?" Cara inquired forcefully. She didn't look up from the toaster. Cara hated how she was the only responsible one in her house. Her mom stayed silent behind her. "And can you please tell Steve to get his shit out of my room."

"Well, where do you expect him to put his stuff?" Steve and Susan had been married for a little over a year. But he had been hanging around for the past three years. And Cara has hated him since she first laid eyes on him. "We don't exactly have a spare room, ya know. Or a basement either."

"Yeah, yeah." Cara waved her mother off, pulling the pieces of bread out of the toaster and spreading peanut butter on them. "And when you stop to get butter don't forget milk. Or laundry soap. Or eggs. Or-"

"Do I look like I'm made of money?" her mother asked, cutting her off. Just the stress of thinking about all the money she needed to spend made her crave a cigarette. She grabbed her pack of Camel Lights from the pocket of her robe while her daughter reprimanded her for her serial negligence.

"Well, you sure do go out every night like you are." She accused, watching her mother light up the white stick between her index and middle finger. "Stop smoking in the house. The park doesn't like it and you know that."

"What? Do you want me to smoke outside like a animal or somethin'?" Susan asked after she took a particularly long drag from her cigarette. "I'm not a dog you can just put out when I need to do my business."

Cara swallowed the last of her toast and brushed her hands on her jeans. "If only," she muttered, grabbing her Carhartt and slipping on a pair of converse that were by the door. "Well, I'm leaving. See you after school."

"See ya babe," Her mother smiled at her, letting white smoke seep from between her thin lips and nose. "Have a good first day." Cara rolled her eyes, turning to walk outside without responding.

The bus ride was as uneventful as any, whether it was the first day of her sophomore year or not. A smelly kid sat next to her the whole ride and the bus driver yelled at her for tracking pebbles onto the bus again. The roads inside the trailer park were mainly pebble and stone and they always got stuck to the bottom of her shoes and shook loose when she entered the bus. She shrugged off the frizzy haired woman.

When the bus finally pulled up in front of the school, she walked to her usual spot by the railing in front. The spot where she waited for Boyd everyday so they could walk into the school together. So they weren't alone. This was the routine. Her locker. His locker. Then they split ways to go to class. They met up again at lunch. And then again after school. Everyday.

Cara and Boyd met in kindergarten when they both got in trouble at the same time. Cara had ripped the head off of a barbie doll and put it in another girl's lunch box. Boyd had accidentally walked into the girl's bathroom. Both of their acts were seen as bad enough to sit inside for recess. So they bonded over the fun they weren't allowed to have. Cara compulsively telling him knock-knock jokes and Boyd shushing her so they wouldn't get in trouble.

They stayed friends. And as school went on and they got older, they grew closer and closer. And even now, as sophomores in high school, they were closer than ever. Since Cara had no one at home to look up to or bond with, and Boyd didn't have anyone at home to confide in either, they found comfort in each other. They were each other's safety net. In their eyes, they didn't need anyone else.

"Hey Curly," Cara heard from behind her. She turned to see Boyd. Tall and built, like always. She smiled. She only ever really smiled when it had to do with Boyd.

"Hey Tiny." He smiled, too. Wide and cheeky, showing all his teeth. Their terms of endearment were significantly reserved for the other, no else used those names but Boyd and Cara. "How are you on this exceptional first day?" He laughed as they walked up to the front doors of the school.

"Surprisingly good, considering I just had to take the bus for the hundredth time in my high school career," he complained, glancing at the tiny blonde as they walked through the crowded halls in the direction of her locker.

"Oh hush," Cara chastised. "You could be riding your bike. Or walking." They both shuddered.

"I just wish I had my own car. Then neither of us would have to take the bus." She smiled as they neared her locker.

"That's sweet but," she shrugged, "I know that if you had a car you wouldn't be driving riff-raff like me to school." Boyd laughed.

"And if you're riff-raff than what am I?" Cara giggled, opening her locker to exchange her unwanted items for the things she needed for her first class.

"A riff-raff sympathizer?" He shook his head as Cara closed her locker softly.

* * *

Cara walked into her least favorite class of the day with a less-than-enthusiastic mood plaguing her demeanor. Biology with Mr. Harris. It was only the first day and her and her teacher were already on bad terms from the previous year. And she didn't even have his class.

"Ah," he sighed condescendingly from behind his desk. "Miss Rodgers, are you having a good first day?" He always knew how to annoy sarcastic remarks out of Cara. Just by asking a simple question his voice was already gnawing on the inside of Cara's ears.

"Just dandy Mister Harris." Her smirk was over exaggerated and she could sense his fingers itching to write her up.

"Good to hear it."

"Right," she murmured as she quickly trotted to sit at the desk farthest in the back of the class. Cara didn't need Harrison to teach her biology. She had the library, Google, and Boyd to do that for her. Harrison was literally there to make her life hell. _As if it wasn't enough of that without his help_. She barely paid attention the entire time and despite hiding behind her Biology textbook, Harris sensed that she wasn't paying attention.

"Miss Rodgers," she heard the man himself say from the black board. He didn't even have to look behind him to know he caught her off guard. He prepared himself for sarcasm and attitude. "Do you know the answer?" Cara sighed.

"Sorry Mister Harris, can you repeat the question?" He sighed, turning around to drop his chalk on his desk and give the blonde a discouraging look.

"I would like it if you would pay attention in my class." Cara knew that no matter how this turned out she would end up with a detention. Or multiple ones. So, she threw caution to the wind, like usual, and fired back mercilessly.

"And I would like it if you didn't single me out to humiliate me." Harrison let out a low, exasperated growl.

"I'm not singling you out, Miss Rodgers. I simply pointed out that you don't know the answers that you should, when you should." Her eyebrows pulled together above her eyes.

"I'm sorry and how is that not singling me out, exactly?" He bend over to lean on his desk menacingly and point a slender finger to the classroom door.

"Hallway. Now." Cara ignored the countless eyes following her as she stood from her desk to strut through the aisles and out of the classroom door, Harris following closely behind. Once they were outside he rounded on her like a rabid animal. The only thing he hated more than youth and stupidity was being disrespected. And that so happened to be Cara's specialty.

"When will you learn to have some respect in my classroom?! Do I have to write you up every single class?! Do I have to give you a detention everyday for the rest of the year? If this is how you're going to be for the rest of the year, you can kiss every lacrosse game or after school activity for the rest of the year goodbye. Because if you don't improve, don't think I won't take away every privilege you have weaseled your way into receiving." Harrison saw red.

"You think taking away some stupid games I don't go to and activities I don't like will hurt me?" Cara hated being expected to respect people who didn't respect her. "Here's an idea: stop making me the target of your humiliations and maybe I won't have to call you out on it." Harrison brandished a finger at the classroom door.

"Go. Expect to be sitting in my classroom after school tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. For a long time," he stated.

"Great, now I can sit in your classroom and not do your homework instead of doing that at home." A satisfied feeling grew in the pit of Cara's stomach as she watched Harris' face practically glow red.

"Go!" Harrison yelled. Cara only smirked as she walked back into the classroom.

* * *

"Okay so how about this," Cara offered as her and Boyd strolled into the carry out that was down the street from the school. "If you tell your parents you're going to Mikey's house and I tell my mom and Steve I'm going to Amy's, we could pack all our shit and with our combined money we could buy two bus tickets and ditch this place. Find somewhere else to dwell for the rest of our miserable lives."

Boyd laughed as he removed two Gaterades from a cooler along the back wall of the store. "And where would we dwell, exactly?"

"I don't know. Vegas? No, how about Seattle? Or LA? I would literally dwell anywhere but here," she said with finality. This is something they always fantasized about. Running away. Finding a new life. Leaving everything behind. Not looking back. But they were just that, fantasies.

"We could do that," Boyd started. "But, you don't even like Amy. You guys are barely lab partners."

"My mom barely remembers my middle name, Boyd. She's not going to know whether or not I'm friends with Amy," Cara claimed as they continued walking through the store.

"But she will know that you only have one friend. And that's me," Boyd retorted. Cara rolled her eyes.

"That's where lying comes in. I can say we have a biology project or something, I don't know." The taller of the two recalled hearing something particularly bad about the blonde during the day that had to do with that exact subject.

"I heard you and Harris had a little argument today." Boyd said. Cara shrugged.

"If it could even be called that. An argument means that the two have an equal chance of winning said argument. I wiped the floor with his smug little pug face." He chuckled. Cara was always someone who didn't take crap from people. The only person who she took crap from was her mother, and even then, Cara wasn't afraid to let her have it. "But that's off topic, we were discussing our escape plans. I was thinking, how about Long Beach?"

Boyd shook his head as they neared the clerk. "That sounds good and all but I have a really big test tomorrow and I just don't think I can miss it." Cara smacked Boyd's sturdy shoulder while he placed their two items on the check out counter. It was only the first day, she knew he was lying, but didn't press it any more.

"Yeah whatever," she rolled her eyes and snatched her drink when it was done being paid for. Her eyes looked up at the clock behind the clerk. "Hey, don't you have to be at work?"

"Shit," Boyd mumbled, reaching into his pockets to grip his keys. "You can get home alright, right?" he asked quickly, already backing up to the door. Cara nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Without another word, he turned and rushed down the street in the direction of the ice rink. Cara chuckled, strutting out of the store and turning towards her own destination.

The bingo hall looked dead. Like always. But Cara knew her mother was there. She always was. And besides, she could see Steve's rusty '82 Renault Fuego sitting directly next to the main entrance anyways.

She walked to the doors quickly. Cara hated this place. It looked like a nursing home and smelt like stale cardboard. This was where people went when they were on their last leg. _Or if they were a thirty-something drunk mother who didn't want to do any actual work to earn money to raise her only child. _

_If we're being specific._

The lady who handed out the cards at the front desk smiled at Cara. The lady knew Susan and Steve well and was always eavesdropping when Cara came down to the hall. Cara strutted past the woman and made her way towards the rows of empty tables. There were only about ten people in the whole hall. So, she spotted her fumbling mother easily.

"Mom," She hissed, sitting down next to the red head.

"Oh, hey sweets," Susan said, intently reading her cards as numbers were being call off.

"What the hell are you doing?" The elder woman smiled up at the blonde. Her pink dauber in hand ready to mark the next number called.

"Well, I'm winning," she said, as if it were obvious. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you spent our grocery money on _eleven bingo cards_." Susan swatted the girl away, listening as a number was called. Her marker moved to cover the number as a smile grew on her face.

"Oh stop fussing. It's a rough crowd tonight, I'm bound to win something," she reasoned. Cara's hand moved to clutch her forehead. A massive migraine was beginning to form directly behind her eyes.

"_Mom_," She stressed. "How much money do you have left?"

"Oh don't be silly." The end of the dauber found it's way between Susan's yellowing teeth. "I spent it all." Cara was ready to strangle the daylights out of her mother. The woman was an irresponsible idiot.

"You've got to be kidding me-_Mom_?" She nearly screamed.

"Relax babe, I'm gonna win tonight and then we'll go grocery shopping if you want," Susan stated, nearly giggling as she marked another number on one of her cards.

"I can't believe you right now." Cara stood from the table. Susan looked up at her daughter. She felt guilty. But she was going to win big tonight, she could feel it. Cara would understand later when she came home with the prize money and arms full of groceries. She looked determined back down to her cards again.

Cara turned and left the hall, walking out into the dark night. Her mother could be so stupid sometimes. Cara knew that in someway she believed she was doing something good. But, Cara constantly told her not to spend her money on useless endeavors like bingo or lottery tickets. Albeit, those tactics were hopeless. Susan did as she pleased. And Cara knew that.

With a heavy sigh, she started to make her way home. Even though she knew Steve would be there. Maybe if she just ignored him, he would leave her alone.

_That was never the case though._

She sighed and continued to walk, hiking her backpack higher up onto her shoulders.

The lights on the yellowing ceiling of the single-wide mobile home flickered. _Leave it to Steve to not pay the fucking electric bill on time,_ Cara thought to herself as she sat at the dining room table-well, the table that was between the living room couch and the yellow fridge in their kitchen. Two uncooked pizza Lunchables and the cherry Gaterade that Boyd had bought her earlier that day was what sat in front of her, next to her English homework. One hand clutched an especially short no. 2 pencil and the other one held a thin piece of bread with cold pizza sauce and raw cheese sprinkled on top.

"Why do you have to do that crap at the table?" Steve asked while he staggered into the small kitchen to go straight to the fridge.

"Because I can't do it anywhere else," she shot back, not even bothering to glance up at the unshaven, smelly, poor-excuse for a step-father. "All your shit is taking up my bedroom."

"Watch it, girly." He reprimanded, brandishing an unsteady finger at the small blonde. She merely scoffed. "I pay the bills in this place, I deserve some respect."

"Yeah, and I deserve my room back." Her green eyes looked up into his murky brown ones. "But, as you and Mick Jagger like to say, we don't always get what we want." Cara didn't even bat an eyelash when he slammed his aluminum can down onto the stained counter. Steve didn't scare her.

"You don't get to talk to me like that!" He huffed, using the full capacity of his useless left leg to march over to her. Steve was a veteran from the Gulf War, he was honorably discharged due to taking a bullet in the leg after only being on the front lines for a few months. To this day, there were still shards stuck in his flesh, leaving his leg partially paralyzed.

"Who's going to stop me?" Cara inquired condescendingly. "You? Mom? She can barely take care of herself let alone me. I'm sixteen, you guy's can't control me like you used to. I'm not scared of you anymore, _Steve_." She spat out his namce like it was poison.

"You're grounded!" He shouted, hoping to pry a reaction from her. These days, he was losing his touch. Steve used to be able to look at Cara the wrong way and make her burst into hysterics. But since she started high school, he hasn't gotten so much as a hiccup from her.

"_Yeah, okay,_" Cara muttered. "You don't have the authority to ground me. You're not my dad." Her words made his face grow red. All he wanted to do was grab a handful of her corkscrew blonde hair and yank it from her head.

"Well, when your mom gets home she's going to ground you. Because god forbid I do anything a step-dad is _supposed_ to do." She only rolled her eyes at him, standing up to collect her trash and throw it away, strutting right by him. Her shoulder roughly bumped his, throwing him off balance. It only fed the fire burning inside him. "Get out," He seethed.

"What?" Cara asked him incredulously after she dropped her trash into the waste basket.

"Get out,"

"You can't be serious," she stated, looking at him like he just grew two more heads. "You can't kick me out. It's pouring outside."

"Well tough. I don't want to look at you until you gain some respect." Steve told her, pointing behind him at the back door. Cara gave him a look, and man, _if looks could kill_. She ripped her coat off the hook on the wall and slammed her feet into a pair of flip flops next to the door. They might have been her mom's, she wasn't sure. She didn't want to go to her room to get more sensible shoes or a coat with a hood, it would have ruined her dramatic exit. With her hand on the brass door handle, ready to run out into the night, she turned back to her step-dad, her eyes burning straight into his.

"_Fuck you_." And with that, she wrenched the door open and ran outside into the frosty air, slamming it behind her. It was raining buckets and the wind made the heavy drops go straight into her face. As she walked down the peppled road that lead to the exit of the trailer park, she dug into her pockets for her phone. Luckily, it was in the back pocket of her skinny jeans. For a split second, she thought of calling her mom. Telling her how terrible of a person Steve was, how he kicked her out into the cold and rain of the night. And she fantasized of how her mom would drop everything and come running home to save her and get rid of Steve once and for all. But, cold hard reality stuck her like a jagged knife. Her mom would never get rid of Steve. Her mom would rather Steve stay there to pay the bills rather than divorce him to protect her daughter. _Her only child_. Cara would be on the streets before Steve would be.

So instead, she called the only other number she had in her phone.

Boyd.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. "Hey, this is Boyd. Um, sorry I missed your call. I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks."_

"Uh, hey Boyd. It's Cara. Um, can you give me a call when you get this? It's kinda important. Uh-yeah, bye."

Cara sighed, trying him again. And again. And again. Around the fifth time she tried calling him, aggravated tears were forming in her eyes. Her fingers punched in his number again forcefully. So much so, that her slippery wet fingers lost their grip on her small, slippery, pre-paid phone.

It was simply destiny that she was standing over a storm drain.

The tiny girl fell desperately to her knees next to the drain. Her small arm reached through the bars to grasp at her phone that was starting to sink into the collected rain water. But, they were just too short to reach. And her phone was already so deeply sunk that she couldn't see it anymore.

_Fuck being small, _she thought to herself, sitting back defeated. The passing of headlights made her hand fly up to protect her eyes from the bright rays. But, they didn't continue on, they stayed shining in her eyes. Cara went into defense mode. It was dark-probably about ten o'clock at night-and she was a 16 year old girl. This car could very well contain a kid-napper, rapist, murderer, _anyone _could be in that car.

Destiny must have intervened again because it wasn't any of those people.

"Hey!" She heard them shout out the window. Her eyes tried to look across the road at the person sitting behind the steering wheel. But the rain and the lingering tears in her eyes made it difficult to see two feet in front of her. "Hey! Are you okay?"

"What?" She called back. The rain and the wind and the clanking of their car made it nearly impossible for her to comprehend what they were saying.

"_I said_," they screamed out their window. "_Are you okay?_" Cara stood from her place on the wet concrete and slowly made her way across the road to the car. Well, now that she looked, it was a jeep. Her face scrunched in confusion when she saw the face of her knight in plaid armor.

"Not really," Cara stated. Stiles nodded, his foot firmly planted in his mouth.

"Right," He tapped his steering wheel. "Of course, you're not okay." His words faded awkwardly, leaving them in a thick silence while Cara continued to stand in the pouring rain next to his door. Suddenly Stiles jumped, leaning over his passenger seat to grasp the handle. "Sorry, here." He looked back at Cara, grimacing. "Get in," Cara practically ran around Stiles' jeep to climb in.

"Thanks," a sigh left her lips. Her blonde hair stuck to the side of her face and droplets of water raced down her pale cheeks and neck and disappeared into her shirt collar. He only thought about his seats getting wet for a moment before he looked up into the green eyes of the girl next to him, his head shook on it's own accord.

"Do you- uh," Stiles paused, thinking his words over again before continuing. "Do you need, like, a-uh, a ride or something?" Cara thought for a second, weighing both of her options. _I could either walk a mile or so in the cold rain until I find a gas station, or I could ride in a warm, dry jeep to one. _

"Um, yeah, if you don't mind." She said politely, trying her best to sound immensely grateful for his gallant offer. "That would be great."

"No, not at all-um no I don't mind, not no I won't give you a ride. I mean, I offered, so I mean, I'm sure you knew that but I just thought that I'd-ya know-clarify." Stiles stuttered out in one quick breath. The jeep smelt like curly fries and cheep air freshener, but she would take that over pouring rain any day. Stiles quickly peeled off, grabbing tact from the road to speed off into the night. "Where do you need to go?" He asked her quietly.

"Uh," she murmured. The first thought that came to her mind was going to Boyd's. He would no doubt find a way to get his parents to let her stay. But, she didn't want to just show up, since he didn't answer his phone, she figured he was busy. "You can just drop me off at the next gas station we see."

Stiles gave her a peculiar glance from the corner of his eye. Part of him wondered if she was in trouble. She was a pretty, blonde girl who was wandering around Beacon Hills in the rain at ten o'clock at night, wearing flip flops and a Carhartt. It didn't exactly seem like this was her normal week night. He didn't want to question her, he didn't want to pry into her choices. He did a good deed, he helped a damsel in distress. He didn't need her back story, too.

"The next gas station we see it is then." He stated over the rain pelting on the roof of his jeep. Cara just gave him a short look. She was thankful, yes. But, she didn't want to do small talk.

Although, the pregnant silence that grew around them was suffocating. There was no music, no talking. Just the sound of the tires spinning and the rain falling. Cara was always good with her words, but she was at a loss. Probably for the first time since she could remember. But luckily, Stiles felt the need to break the tension also.

"So, um," He started nervously. "Do you go to Beacon Hills High?"

"Yeah, I do," she said. "Do you?" Stiles nodded his head, tapping his fingers along to an imaginary beat.

"Sophomore," He stated. "You?"

"Sophomore." She confirmed, pulling her coat closer to her. It wasn't the air that made her cold. It was the conversation. Talking about herself was never a strong suit.

"It's almost weird how we're in the same grade and we don't know each other." Stiles said, as-a-matter-of-fact. Cara nodded, folding her arms in front of her.

"I guess," It made her worry how easily he got her to talk when he didn't even know her. "I mean, I'm not really a social butterfly at school. I'm not _that _surprised we don't know each other." She shrugged.

"Well, I'm not exactly on the top of the totem pole either but, I know people. I've lived here my whole life though, so."

"So have I," Cara cut in quickly.

"Oh," Stiles said, unsure of how to respond. _Insert foot in mouth, part dos._

"Yeah," Her shoulders lifted apathetically. "I don't really care if everyone in the school knows who I am or likes me."

"No, I get it." Stiles thought of all . "It's just rare to find anyone who feels totally indifferent towards social stature. Especially in high school."

"I guess I'm just a rare find." Cara said, looking out the window. Admitting that she hated being an outcast was not on her list of things to do for the night. She watched the beads of water fall down the window, following them with her eyes.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence-since Stiles didn't know how to carry the conversation any longer-Cara could see the lights of a gas station in the distance. Stiles did, too. He pulled into the gas station, slowly bringing the jeep to a stop in front of the entrance doors.

"Well, looks like this is my stop." Cara muttered, readying herself to step out into the cold air.

"Yeah," Stiles said. He was beginning to feel guilty about leaving this girl to fend for herself in this deserted gas station. His father didn't raise him like this. "Hey, look. Are you sure you want to stay here, I mean, I could find you somewhere to chill. I mean we could go sit at the police station or-"

"No, I'm fine here. I just need to wait for someone." She quickly intersected. The last thing she needed was to be asked a bunch of questions by the police.

"If-If you have somewhere else to be, I could drive you. I'm not, like, busy or anything." Cara simpered at the boy, only now realizing she hadn't yet gotten his name. And also realizing this was the first time she had come close to a smile all night.

"No, it's fine. I promise." He nodded reluctantly. "I just realized we don't know each other's names." Stiles' eyebrows bunched together above his eyes, now coming to this realization also.

"Crap, well I'm rude. Um, I'm Stiles Stilinski." He reached over the console to shake the blonde's hand. She grasped his lightly, afraid of making direct contact with him.

"I'm Cara," she said quickly, pulling his eyes to hers, "Rodgers. Um, Cara Rodgers," she continued awkwardly. Familiarity sparked inside Stiles. _Oh yeah, _he thought, _I've heard of her._ Cara was known around the school notoriously. Since freshman year people have been talking about how she talks back to teachers and how she has problems with authority figures. Though he has never actually seen her, this is not how he imagined her to look. Cara let go of his hand, hurriedly turning around to push the door open and jump out of the jeep. "Thanks for the ride," she muttered, pulling her coat around her tighter.

"No-uh, no problem." Stiles stuttered. She gave him a tight-lipped smile before she quickly turned around to march into the 24-hour Gas-N-Sip.

* * *

_A/N_

_First attempt at a Teen Wolf fanfiction. Any pointers would be fantastic._

_-blahicantthinkofaname xoxo_


	4. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Chapter Two: __**The Handbook That No One Else Got**_

_[partially re-written]_

* * *

The gas station was surprisingly cold, since she imagined the inside would be some kind of haven from the cold and wet dampness of outside. There was only one worker in the establishment and he was leaning up against the counter behind the register, watching the small TV that was hanging on the wall, his back to her. He was tall, surly, and young, probably around 25, Cara guessed. He had dark hair and heavy stubble around his jaw. He was also wearing a shirt with the Gas-N-Sip official logo printed on the back and she assumed the front too. He didn't notice her come in.

Cara wanted to ask to borrow their phone, but decided to just wait out the rain instead. If it didn't let up in a half an hour, she would ask to use it. So the blonde walked around between the aisles, looking at the outrageous prices of the cheaply made food. She could practically smell the stale coffee inside the brewers and the day old hot dogs rotating under the bright heat lamps. Her mouth watered. It wasn't until then she realized she was hungry. She _did_ happen to be in the middle of her makeshift dinner when Steve decided to throw his bitch fit.

Her coat was still soaked, despite being in Stiles' jeep for a while, and her toes were going numb from exposure. _Would it kill anyone to turn on God damn the heat?. _Cara thought as her toes instinctively curled into her foot.

She was sifting through the candy, looking for a small, inconspicuous bar she could possibly eat without causing a scene, when a voice made her nearly drop the potential stolen good.

"Are you going to buy something?" The clerk asked her. Cara looked up defensively, putting down the candy bar to lock eyes with the cashier. "Or just look for something to steal?"

"I don't have any money," she admitted sheepishly. "So, I guess I can't buy anything."

"Well, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he droned, looking the least bit interested. Cara sighed, walking up to the counter slowly. Her shoes obnoxiously slapping the ground with each step.

"It's pouring outside, man," she argued, folding her arms over her chest. "I just need to wait until the rain stops and then I'm gone."

"Unless you buy something, you can't stay on the premises."

"I already told you I don't have any money! What do you want from me?" Cara asked defensively.

"For you to leave."

"Oh my-look," She said, leaning against the counter across from him. "I've had a bit of a rough night, alright? And I would appreciate it if you could cut me some slack. I just need to wait for the rain to let up and I'll be out of your hair." The clerk didn't look like he was going to give up. "Unless I could use your phone," she added hopefully.

"Only employees can use that," he stated. _Well, someone's gunning for employee of the month. _

"Your boss isn't here, is he?" Cara asked, knowing the answer was going to be no.

"Well, no, but-"

"But nothing. I need to use your phone. Please." Cara looked at the guy, using her most undignified, pity-inducing, gut-twisting, pout face. The last time she needed to use it was when she was ten and her mom wouldn't let her go to Boyd's house. It worked perfectly then, like she hoped it would right now.

He let out a sigh, clearly defeated by the manipulative blonde. "Fine, but you get two minutes. After that, I want you gone." A relieved smile swooped onto her face as she rushed behind the counter and picked up the black phone on the wall. She quickly punched in Boyd's number, hoping he would answer this time.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. "Hey, this is Boyd. Um, sorry I missed your-"_

The blonde slammed her finger on the hook, ending the call. The one time she really needed him, he wouldn't answer his damn phone. _Typical_. Cara sighed. She knew the clock was ticking so she fiddled to dial her mother's cell phone number. She just hoped she wasn't at the bar and totally hammered yet.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Rin-_

_"Hello?" _Susan answered on the fourth ring. Cara exhaled in relief.

"Hey mom."

_"Cara? Why are you calling? Is everything okay?" _Cara had to pull the phone back and stare at it in surprise for a split second. _My mother? Showing concern? For me? Not possible_.

"Um, well, not really," she admitted, almost shamefully. She knew that the second she told her mother about what happened, it was over. Her mom would take Steve's side in a split second and there really was little that she could about it. "You see, me and-and, well Steve, we had a bit of a-a bit of a fight."

_"What did you do this time to piss him off?" _Her mom asked, accusingly.

"I didn't do anything, mom! It was Steve, he-he kicked me out. We got into an argument and he got butt hurt and kicked me out like a spoiled, little child! It's pouring outside mom, and he kicked me out!" Cara tried desperately to keep her cool. But she could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest with apprehension.

_"'Oh no, mom, I didn't do anything!'" _Susan mocked into the receiver. _"It sure sounds like you did, Corkscrew!" _The woman was fed up. Her daughter and her husband just could not get along.

"I did my homework, mom! And he yelled at me for doing it at the table. I pointed out that all of his shit was in my room and he-"

_"You did what?!" _Her mother cut her off. _"Cara, how could you say that?! He is as much apart of this family as you are and you have no right to accuse him of taking up your room he is-"_

"Thirty seconds!" The clerk yelled making her pull the phone away from her ear while her mother continued to scream at her.

"Gimme a minute!"

_"-he pays the bills for us and he supports us and puts food on the table! You have no right to tell him to get his shit out of your room! Technically it's his room because he is the one who pays the bills and makes sure our lights stay on!"_

"Mom, how are you blaming this on me? Steve has never liked me, okay? You are just blind to that because you think he's such a great _fucking _person. Like he's some sort of saint because he puts up with us. Because he pays our bills and sits on his ass all day not doing a God damn thing. Well, he's not a saint, mom! He's not!" Cara screamed into the receiver, ignoring the impatient clerk who was standing directly behind her. Her two minutes were up.

_"And what makes you think he isn't a saint, huh? He puts up with you all day!" _

"The man kicked your _only child _out onto the street, in the rain and cold and dark, at ten o'clock at night, _alone_, and you're asking why I think he is a bad person? _Are you fucking kidding me?_"

"Time's up." The worker said impatiently from behind her.

"Gimme a fucking second, alright!"

_"Who are you yelling at, Cara?" _

"No one, mom! I just-" she stopped, inhaling a long breath before letting it out and responding. "I just wish you would put your child before your husband sometimes, mom."

_"Maybe if my child got off her ass and helped with money, I would." _Susan cared for her daughter. She gave birth to her. She raised her, even after her dad left. But, times were tough. Susan did what she needed to support herself and Cara. She married Steve for the mere fact that he could provide for them. Give them a house. Food. Clothes. Things they needed. She wasn't an evil woman, not completely. Everyone thought she was. And despite her bad decisions, she loved Cara. But, Susan was not good at showing it. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Wow, mom." Cara almost burst into tears right then and there. She always knew her mom didn't care as much as other moms did. But, she never thought she would say something like that.

_"Now, Cara, don't get all upset-"_

"I'm not upset, mom. I'm glad you could finally tell me how you really feel."

The blonde slammed the phone back onto the hook, trying to hold back her tears in front of the employee. She would not let this break her. This moment was to be stored away, locked in the dark depths of her mind. Her mother was a slimy piece of filth and no matter what Cara tried to do or say, nothing would change that. She needed to accept it. _If only it was that easy._

The clerk stood idly by. He had heard the whole exchange since he was standing so close. The burly man didn't have the heart to tell her to leave at this point, though. He might have been a tough guy, but throwing a girl out of the store, who presumably had no where else to go, was heartless. Even he wasn't that cold blooded.

"Look, miss-"

"Sorry, I was just leaving," she said quickly, turning away from the phone to hasten out of the store without looking at the man. She didn't know where she was going to go. There was no way in hell that she was going to go back to the trailer right now. The only place she could think of was Boyd's.

Cara figured that she would go there, and ask to stay the night. Plain and simple. Surely the people she grew to know like a second family wouldn't turn her away. Especially after they saw how much she looked like a drowned rat. Surely Boyd isn't too busy with whatever was keeping him from his phone to help her out.

* * *

The tiny girl raised her hand to rap on the glass screen door of Boyd's house. She couldn't keep her foot from bouncing underneath her. She didn't see any cars in the driveway, but she hoped someone was still home. After she stood there for a few minutes, and there was still no answer to her constant knocking, she sighed in defeat.

When she was halfway down the steps, she heard the squeak of the screen door opening. Her head snapped around to look at who was behind the door.

Boyd was confused to see the blonde standing on his steps. It was almost ten o'clock at night and they both had school to go to tomorrow. His ass was fast asleep before she started pounding on his door.

"Cara?" His brows furrowed in befuddlement as he looked at the trembling, soaked girl below him. "What are you-" Cara ran up the steps to engulf Boyd in her small arms. He was caught off guard, but he immediately knew something was wrong. "Whoa. What happened?"

"I really don't want to talk about it right now." She grumbled, looking up into the chocolaty eyes of her best friend. Despite being a complete spit-fire, she only had two soft spots. And one was standing in front of her, hugging her tight and firm. He was her rock, always has been. And despite him not answering his phone earlier tonight, she chalked it all up to being busy with homework or sleeping or other things she didn't care to think about at the moment. She felt guilty for asking so much of him, for a place to stay for the night. But, she simply had no where else to go. "Um- I actually have a huge favor to ask." He raised him eyebrows curiously.

"And that is..."

"Can I stay here," she waited a beat, watching him, "tonight? Just tonight, I promise." Boyd bit his lip, thinking.

"I don't know. My parents are out of town, I don't know when they'll be back. Why?" Although her optimistic approach deflated from under her, she answered his question honestly.

"Me and my mom- we had a fight. Well, she told me that since I don't pay the bills, I don't rank importance over Steve." Boyd sighed. He knew this was going to happen. Cara constantly put herself in these situations. She was always trying to get her mom to pick her over Steve, even though they both knew that Susan never would. Susan was a bitch. Boyd knew it. Cara knew it. Steve knew it. Hell, _everyone knew it._

Although the boy knew that Cara subjected herself to this, he didn't blame her. Because all Cara wanted was a mother. Every time Cara scraped Susan off the floor and put her in bed after a particularly rough night at the bar, or reminded her to pick up the groceries, or tried to scream some sense into her at the bingo hall, all she was really doing was grappling for a mother who cared. And how could he blame her for that? Even though he knew she was going to get hurt, and she knew it too, he couldn't get her to let go.

"Jesus Cara, I-I'm sorry," he muttered sincerely. "Susan is a bitch. She doesn't deserve what you do for her. Ever." Cara nodded, smiling sadly up at Boyd. "I'll go call my parents, I'll be right back." He let go of the girl to turn back and go into the house.

After a few minutes of Cara staring blankly at a potted plant near his stairs, Boyd came back outside with a relieved smile on his face.

"It's good, you can stay. But only for tonight." The blonde mentally rejoiced, following the tall, dark boy into his house. "I fought tooth and nail for you, Cara. They almost said no, but then I offered to take on extra chores. And I already have a lot as it is. You're lucky I love you." Cara snorted, being careful that her shoes didn't click too loud in the quiet house.

"Ah shucks, Tiny, you're gonna make me blush." Boyd shook his head as he lead the blonde to his room. "I'll help with the chores if you want. I mean, it's not like I don't do everything at my house, anyways. I'm used to bit of free labor. Sissy."

"Hey, watch it Curly," Boyd said, mock threateningly. Cara laughed as they walked into his bedroom. She had been in it many times over the years, a witness to the changes it had undergone as Boyd grew older. Swapping out super hero sheets for a plain solid blue color. The amounts of action figures and toy trucks that littered the floor slowly ebbed away and eventually, was just clothes and books and other odd things. Or, the disposal of his race car bed in the second grade. Admittedly, Cara was more upset about that departure than Boyd was.

Boyd dug in his drawers to find some spare clothes for the girl while her clothes dried. He found her some sweats and one of his smaller t-shirts. Although it would still be too large, it would have to do.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower," Cara said, accepting the clothes that Boyd had offered.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast. You need to tell me everything that happened tonight first." The boy said, gesturing to the chair that was in the corner of the room. The blonde sighed as she reluctantly took a seat, watching as Boyd sat down on his bed so that he was facing her.

"It's a long story," Cara said passively. Boyd shrugged, looking at her with impatience.

"I've got plenty of time."

"Did you paint in here? It looks nice." The girl was trying to change the subject desperately, prolonging the inevitable. Boyd only looked at her, annoyance dancing behind his dark eyes. She sighed again. "Okay. Well, after you left today, to go to work, I went down to the bingo hall."

"Cara," Boyd let out an exasperated breath. "I always tell you not to do that."

"I know, I know." Cara waved him off, rolling her eyes. "But, I had to. She was supposed to pick up food after the bar tonight and I had to make sure she didn't waste all the money on bingo first."

"She did, didn't she?"

"Of course, she did," the curly headed girl answered. "And, of course, I yelled at her. She literally told me that after she won we could go grocery shopping. There was ten people there, Boyd. Even if she did win, it wouldn't be enough to buy a whole meal. Let alone go shopping for all the things we need." She rubbed her forehead, recalling the event from earlier that day vividly. "I couldn't even look at her. I went home, cleaned, took a nap, got some dinner, and then started my homework. And since my room is where Steve's over flow goes, I didn't have room at my desk to do my homework. So I did it at the dinner table. Steve got all pissy. We got into a fight. And then, he kicked me out."

"Are you serious?" Boyd cut in. He felt anger growing in his body, making his hands clench. He always hated Steve, hearing about the things he did to Cara and her mom. Even though he had a rather large dislike for the woman, the shit he did was unacceptable. Steve was a dick. Has been since he scooted into their lives three years ago.

"Yeah," Cara answered. "So, since obviously I'm not about to beg on my hands and knees to stay, I stormed out."

"Then you came here?" Boyd asked.

"Uh, well, not exactly." She said, remembering all the things that lead her to this house. Boyd looked at her curiously, one of his brows raised. "I tried calling you, a lot. But I dropped my phone in a fucking storm drain. Crazy, right?"

"Yeah, sorry about that, I went to bed at like eight thirty."

"It's fine. You're fine." Cara wasn't about to blame Boyd for getting a good night's sleep. That's what she wished she was doing right then. "Do you know who, uh, Stiles Stilinski is?" She continued her story.

"Vaguely. Him and that other kid hang out. Scott, I think," Boyd answered. The name didn't ring a bell to Cara so she simply shrugged.

"I guess, I don't know. Well, he saw me on the side of the road. He stopped to help-"

"And you got into the car with a complete stranger?" Boyd offered accusingly. Cara shrugged guiltily.

"Come on Boyd, the kid is harmless," she stated, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

"That "_kid_"," he used air quotations for emphasis, "is the same age as us. And you don't know him. He could have been a psycho looking for a helpless vitcim to mame and kill."

"I'm not helpless Boyd. Have you forgotten who was able to take you down with two hits and one kick?"

"I let you take me down, first of all. Second of all, that was five years ago. I hadn't hit puberty yet and I'm positive that was the last year you were taller than me. _And third of all_, he could have had a gun. Or a knife. You aren't invincible Cara." The blonde's thoughts on her abilities always made Boyd nervous. She could have been cornered, out gunned and out numbered, and she would have thought she had a chance to take her opponents down. He was waiting for when she mindlessly walked into a no-win situation and come out dead.

"Oh stop your worrying Tiny, I'm fine aren't I?" She asked him, giving him a smile. He couldn't help but smile back, pushing his worries aside to hear the rest of her story. "So, _anyways_. He gave me a ride to a gas station. And there, I used a phone. Called my mom. Told her what happened. And of course, she picked Steve over me. What's new?"

Boyd sighed, standing to embrace the small girl. She stood too, walking into his outstretched arms. "My parents've been at some casino or something since Saturday."

"They didn't see you off on your first day of school?" She asked, pulling back to look up at the young man. He sighed, shaking his head and releasing the girl.

"You know my parents, you know they don't care about that kind of stuff. You've seen one first day, you've seen 'em all." Cara clicked her tongue and tried not to let her anger seem too obvious. Boyd was the beset person she knew and he deserved so much better than the parents he was stuck with.

"Those slimy, low life, waste of space, neglectful pieces of-"

"Go take a shower, Curly." He said, shoving her out into the hall towards the bathroom. She inhaled through her nose and decided to just let if go, for Boyd's sake. She saluted the tall boy as she walked backwards.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"Stop staring, Cara."

"Why should I?"

"Because he's never going to have sex with you."

"Who says?"

"He does."

"I can assure you, I have never heard him say that."

"Yeah, because you've never had a conversation with him."

"It's more of an unspoken connection, really."

"Cara," Boyd warned as they sat at their lunch table. Cara sighed, finally looking away from intensly staring at the back of Jackson Whittemore's head. It was obvious that Cara was physically attracted to the boy. Well, it was obvious to Boyd at least. "Why do you like him so much, anyways? He is a complete ass hat."

"He is a physically perfect ass hat," she remarked, quickly glancing at him again. "His eyes are like swimming pools and his jaw line could cut glass."

"You're pathetic." Cara shrugged, turning back to her food.

"It's not like I want to date the guy. Just have meaningless sex with him. Because, you're right, he is a total douche, but, he's a hot douche." Boyd shook his head, putting his plastic fork down next to his tray.

"I will never understand the obsession that you have with that guy."

"Oh hush it, Tiny," she said, taking a bite of her Macaroni and Cheese. "It doesn't help that I have a compulsive need to beat Lydia Martin at everything she does. Including her love conquests."

"I have a feeling it would be easier to do that if you actually put effort into something. Or, I don't know_, did something_." Cara rolled her eyes. "We do owe her for our comfortably isolated lives, you know."

"Yeah yeah. I was hot shit when I put the barbie head in that girl's lunch box. Then this little fucking red head comes along and climbs all the way across the monkey bars without falling _or _taking a break. _That bitch_." She snarled, stabbing a noodle with her spork. "And I would hardly call it comfortable, Boyd. Our lives suck."

"Jeez, good to know you don't sugar-coat things for my benefit."

"Boyd, your parents barely acknowledge your existence. That was proven the other day when your parents decided to go to a casino instead of seeing their child off on his first day of sophomore year. _And they still haven't come back_." He shrugged apathetically, staring gloomily at his tray. "Hell, my mom doesn't give a damn about me. And as far as I know, my dad's still at the corner store buying a carton of cigarettes."

"At least you don't have to have a job to live, Cara. At least Steve is willing to pay for your food and clothes and shelter. Even when you give him hell every time he opens his mouth." Irritation flooded the blonde's veins.

"He deserves every bit I give him, and you know it," she uttered, giving him a menacing look.

"I'm not saying he doesn't. I'm saying that he could very well leave you to fend for yourself. You could have to work to get the things you need." He said, unwavering. Cara shrank under his eyes. She did realize how lucky she was compared to Boyd. Her demeanor became impish.

"Sorry," She murmured, taking a bite from the small cup of salad on her tray. He waved her off.

"Both of our lives suck equally, Cara."

"Good to know you don't sugar-coat things for my benefit."

* * *

The two teens made their way from the school. The blonde had a detention to get to, but stolidly decided to walk with her best friend to the parking lot to talk before she was going to report to it.

They passed the lacrosse field on their way. The team was all huddled around Coach Finstock while he yelled animatedly at them. The two stopped to watch the scene. There were over thirty guys on the field and the stands were decently filled to watch the practice.

"You should play lacrosse," Cara declared, still watching.

"Yeah, right," he said, dismissing the statement as if it was the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

"I heard there's going to be a scrimmage tomorrow. You could probably still join," she said nonchalantly, apathetically shrugging.

"Not happening."

"No, I'm being serious." She pressed, looking over at Boyd after the coach yelled encouragingly at the group of players, causing them in turn to eagerly reply and disperse among the field. "It's the perfect way for you to break out of that isolated cocoon and transform into a social butterfly."

"Please, tell me you're joking."

"Well, it didn't hurt for me to try," she said, deflated. They watched the game for a moment longer before Boyd spoke up.

"Are you coming to my house again tonight or are you finally gonna go home?" Boyd asked, glancing at the blonde. She sighed, leaning her hands against the chain link fence that enclosed the field. She had stayed at Boyd's every night this week. His parents were still away, leaving the house vacant besides Boyd. She had to borrow his clothes, since all hers were at home. She was wearing one of his shirts today, in fact. And her jeans from the night she showed up at his house.

"I don't know."

"Well, let me know. You're lucky I have neglectful parents or you would have to face reality a lot sooner."

She chuckled wryly, letting go of the metal partition. "I'm lucky I've got you, ya big lug." Her eyes went to the tall boy beside her.

"Don't get all mushy on me now, Curly," he said, shaking off the brief moment of affection. "Anyways, don't you have a detention to get to?" Boyd asked, turning the conversation on her. She nodded, orbiting her eyes back to the field.

"Harrison can wait a few more minutes before he's graced with my presence." Cara's eyes were on the game, but she had no idea what was actually happening. She had a hard time keeping up with the ball and there were so many players, she couldn't differentiate between them.

"Ouch," Both her and Boyd muttered as they watched a poor kid get hammered to the ground.

"Now, doesn't that look like fun?" Cara offered, looking back to Boyd. He snorted and rolled his eyes to the heavens, turning to walk away from the field and continue towards the parking lot that would ultimately lead him to his bus stop. She stood in her spot by the fence, knowing he would turn around. His head yawed from it's direction before his feet hit asphalt to address the petite blonde.

"Get to detention, Curly."

"As you wish, Tiny."

* * *

"Tomorrow, same time, Miss Rodgers," Harrison said, looking levelly at the small girl who stood in front of his desk. "And don't waste time spectating lacrosse practice next time. They have plenty of viewers already, you will not make a difference."

"Of course not, Mister Harrison." Cara had spent the last hour sitting in the front row of his classroom, alone. Since it was only the first week, she wasn't surprised that she was the only one who had detention in Harrison's class. She had been completely silent, unmoving. She acted as a decorative piece, seen and not heard. It sent the biology teacher's teeth on edge.

"You are free to go then, Miss Rodgers." She nodded, quickly backing away from his desk, picking up her book bag, and retreating from his classroom. There were a few students lingering around the halls, undeterred by the hour. Some were talking to teachers, some were combing through their lockers, some were mingling among other students. There was one though, that was carrying a large stack of books in his pale arms.

Destiny decided to jump into action at that moment, once again, like clock work.

Stiles lost grip on the books and they begun to slip from his grasp. He desperately grappled to keep them from falling to the tiled floor of the hallway. But, his efforts were futile as they crashed to the ground anyways. He looked sadly at the pile of lycanthropy and mythological creatures books on the floor for a moment before slumping to his knees to start to pick them up again. He didn't notice the girl who dropped to help until they both reached for the same hardcover. Their fingers only brushed for a split second before Stiles flinched his hand away from the contact, startled. His eyes snapped up to look at the charitable person.

_Cara Rodgers_.

She wasn't fazed by his befuddlement, and continued to gather his books for him. He only watched her, her crazy blonde hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She adorned a large navy blue t-shirt that stopped mid-thigh and under those she was wearing a pair of dark jeans. She was wearing the same Carhartt that she was the night they met, too. Her features were passive as she piled the last book on top of the stack. _Lycanthropes, Incubi and Other Dark Creatures of the Past, Present and Future_. Instead of questioning it, she delicately pushed his books towards him slightly.

"Uh, th-thanks," he stuttered, snapping himself back to reality. She looked up at him, keeping her indifferent expression present on her face.

"No thanks needed," she stated. She was going to accept his thanks with a warm smile, to ease his jumpiness. But thought better of it. "You helped me, so I guess I owe you."

"Nah," He brushed it off with a shrug, trying to recover from his not-so-suave fumble moments before. "You-you don't owe me anything. I was only doing my civic duty." He smiled at her, trying to get a response.

"Actually, I do owe you, Stilinski. It's no one's 'civic duty' to help a neurotic, hysterical mess on the side of road. Especially when it's me." Stiles' smile widened, _she remembered my name_. Most people barely care to recall the unique name. Lydia sure didn't. But, Cara Rodgers was not most people, apparently.

"Being the sheriff's son and all, my 'civic duty' means I have all sorts of responsibilities. Helping a-" He stopped himself from saying _dansal in distress_, fearing it would offend her. "-person in need is, like, the first page of the handbook." The blonde rolled her eyes and stood from the ground. Stiles remembered that they were, in fact, still kneeling on the floor. So he quickly scrambled to stand up, taking his stack of peculiar books into his hands with him.

Cara tried not to let the fact that the _sheriff's son _was standing in front of her derail her. "Well, sheriff's son or not, I don't like owing people. So, expect good deeds to keep coming, sir." Stiles grinned over his handful at the blonde. The left corner of her lips glitched up ever so slightly at his compromised position, at his head peeking over the top of the stack.

"I'll keep my eyes open," He said.

Remembering what the books in his hands were actually for, the grin on his face promptly dropped. Cara almost got whiplash from his brisk change. "I-I gotta go." He muttered quickly. A hand that was holding his books awkwardly waved under the restrictions of the pile, causing him to almost drop them all again. She waved back reluctantly, watching him scramble away from her and out of the school.

The blonde stood there for a moment, rooted in her place in the middle of the hallway. Her eyes were glued to the door that the frantic boy had busted through in his haste exit.

_Crap._

_This can't be happening._

_No. No. No. No. No._

_There's no way I am starting to want to be _friends _with _Stiles Stilinski.

_He is completely spastic._

_Absolutely unbearable._

_A total dork._

**But he has his moments.**

_No he doesn't, he is a dweeb 100% of the time._

**And he is really sweet**

_No, no he isn't. He makes me nausuas._

**And his eyes remind you of maple syrup.**

_Yeah; sticky, gooey, and annoying._

**And he pulls off his buzz cut surprisingly well.**

_No, it looks like a barber went ham on his poor head._

**His cute head.**

_His annoying head._

**His adorable head**_._

_His nerdy head._

**His-**

She was knocked out of her thoughts by a kid shoving past her to run down the hallway and up the stairs. Cara shook her head, trying to forget that this even happened. The girl continued to exit the school and reluctantly walk in the direction of Boyd's house.

* * *

_A/N_

_Thanks for reading._


	5. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Chapter Three: __**The Lowest Man on The Totum Pole is Usually The Nicest**_

* * *

The air was brisk and the sun was slowly making it's way towards the horizon. Cara had been sitting on a plastic chair that sat outside her front door for almost an hour. Boyd had told her that, whether she liked it or not, she would be going home tonight. He let her stay at his house again on Thursday night but refused to let her go one more day with out going home. After her detention she went to find him at his work and stayed with him until he was finished, prolonging the wait. When he was done he almost had to drag her back to her house.

So there she sat, playing scenerios over and over in her head. What she would say when she went inside. How she would act. She was positive that both Susan and Steve knew she was out there. Since, if her mom didn't, she would have left for bingo or the bar by now. But, she was avoiding her too. That made her feel no better though.

Taking a deep breath, she stood. She self conciously pulled on Boyd's shirt. She had mentally prepared herself to be called a slut, or something along those lines, by one of them since she was clearly wearing a men's shirt. It had been four days. And no calls. No missing persons mishaps. Nothing. Her mom and her dead-beat step father didn't care. She knew this. But, that didn't mean it didn't hurt to think that only one person in the whole entire world fully and truly loved her, and they weren't her parents.

Her hand grasped the door handle and she turned it slowly.

"Look who finally decided to come inside." Cara heard the second her foot crossed the threshold. _Steve_. She didn't respond. "Have fun out in the real world, sweatheart?"

The blonde held her tongue still, and silently removed her coat to place it on the hook beside the door. Then slipped off her flip flops.

"And wearing a guy's shirt. What have _you _been doing these past few days." Her mother said from the table. She had a lit cigerette set between her index and middle finger while she sat over a pile of discruntled papers. Cara still said nothing. "Oh, thank god you brought back my flops." _That _comment was what made Cara lash out at her mother.

"I'm gone for a week, you have no idea where I am, and you were worried about your _flip flops_?"

"Well, of course I was worried about you sweets." Her mom said after she took a drag from her cigerette, white smoke leaking from her lips while she spoke, looking as if Cara had something absolutely outragous. "If you would have been gone for a few more days, I was going to file a report."

"_A few more days? _Mom, you're supposed to file a report when someone is gone for _forty-eight hours_. I was gone for over _one hundred and twenty_. You _should _have filed one three days ago." Cara looked back and forth from Steve to Susan a few times, wondering if Steve was that much of an idiot too.

"I knew you were going to come back. If you were gone longer than a week, I was going to file a report. Why are you getting so upset?"

"That! That is the exact reason why I'm getting upset, mom! You don't even act like you're my mom. You treat me like I'm a pesty roomate who leaves their dirty dishes in the sink, okay? You treat Steve better than me and you _gave birth to me_." Susan looked back down to her pile of papers. She stayed silent. "Mom! Look at me!" Susan didn't look up. She took a drag from her Camel Light and went to write something down on the parchment.

Cara marched over to her mother, ripped the cigerette from her fingers and smothered it on the table, leaving a black soot mark. Susan looked up at her daughter in disbelief. "What the hell?!" She screamed.

"Stop avoiding this mom! We need to talk this out!"

"I'm not going to stand here and listen to you tell me I'm a bad mother!" Susan stood to tower over Cara. But she didn't back down, she only straightened her back to appear taller.

"Than stop acting like one! Tell me you love me more than Steve! Tell me! Choose your child over your husband for once. Prove to me that you aren't a souless piece of trailer trash!" Cara screamed at her mother. Susan stood silently. Looking directly into Cara's emerald eyes. They reminded her so much of her father's eyes. Cara got nearly everything from her father. Every admirable quality was taken from him. Her blonde hair was her father's. Her eyes, her fair complexion, her small build. The only thing that stood out to have come from her mother was the curly texture of her hair. But, Cara's hair was young and bouncy still. Susan's red hair was frizzy and damaged from avid straightening and lack of care.

It was almost physicaly painful for Susan to look into her only child's young and innocent eyes and tell her that her father wasn't coming back. That was when Susan really hit rock bottom. She didn't used to be so callous. She didn't used to smoke a pack a day. Susan was actually a mildly loving mother in the beginning. But, the day that Zach told her that he was leaving was the day that Susan stopped caring. She loved Zach. He was her first boyfriend, first kiss, first everything. He gave her her first child, and she was almost positive that he loved her too. But, one day he was gone, and he left behind two heartbroken girls in his wake.

She couldn't bare the thought of someone else leaving like that again.

Susan stayed silent, still looking into the eyes of her daughter. Her daughter, who grew up too fast to take care of the very person who's supposed to take care of her. She backed up and sat back down at the table to finish filling out paperwork for Steve's compensation.

Tears welled up in Cara's eyes, but she made sure they didn't fall down her cheeks. With a locked jaw, she took a deep breath and went to her room without saying another word. She grabbed a pair of leggings and a long john shirt. Luckily, the bathroom was directly next to her bedroom. She ran to it still, and took a long shower, breathing in the steam. It stung her lungs a litte, but she kind of liked it. After she got out she quickly dressed and braided her soaked hair. The only way she could get it to stay put in a braid was when it was wet. She brushed her teeth and left the bathroom to put on a pair of white sneakers. She walked out of her room and removed her coat from the hook once again.

_It's Friday night, the last place I wanna be is home._

"I'm going to Boyd's." Cara told her indifferent guardians.

"Is that who you were staying with this whole time? I have to say sweets, spending so much time with a man, especially staying over, doesn't make you look good." Susan called from the kitchen, another cigerette hanging from her mouth. Cara ignored her statement, turning to open the door.

Before she stepped out she yelled back, "Don't wait up."

* * *

An unexpected knock on Stiles' door was what broke him from his intense researching. He jumped, quickly shutting his laptop and standing to open his bedroom door. Ready to defend the mess on his floor to his father. Running excuses through his head. _A research project. Homework. Studying. Personal curiosity. Yeah, right. Project it is_. But when he opened it, he was relieved to see Scott instead, and let out a sigh.

"Get in here." He snapped, opening the door wider for his best friend to enter. "You gotta see this, dude." He briskly closed the door behind Scott and continued to speak.

"What, did that blonde profess her undying love for you or something?" Scott asked, looking at his frantic friend.

"Wh-What? No!"

"Well, you need to make a move. Lydia won't mind. I promise you." He told Stiles regretfully. Stiles waved him away and walked to his desk.

"No, man, listen. I've been up all night. Websites, books, all this information."

"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asked, watching Stiles sit in his desk chair and spin to face him. Although, spastic behavior from his best friend was never a bizzare accurance.

"A lot. Doesn't matter, okay? Just listen." Stiles quickly redirected the conversation to the important matter at hand.

"Oh, is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?" Scott lazily threw his bag onto the floor beside Stiles' bed and took a seat.

"No, they're still questioning people. Even Derek Hale."

"Oh, the guy in the woods that we saw the other day."

"Yeah! Yes, but that's not it, okay?" Stiles flailed his arms around, as if to rake the topic back in from being adrift.

"What then?" Stiles took a breath, calming himself down.

"You remember the joke from the other day?" He looked at Scott while he held a piece of parchment tightly in his right hand. "Not a joke anymore." Scott's eyes widened.

"You had sex with that girl in the back of your car? Way to go, dude!" The floppy haired boy stood to give Stiles a high five but was only batted away.

"No, dude, no." Stiles said, pushing Scott to sit down again. After telling him about helping Cara on Monday night, the first thing that he said was that he missed a generous oportunity to copilate in the backseat of Stiles' jeep. "The wolf. The bite in the woods." He said, watching for recognition from Scott. Nothing. "I started doing all this reading. Do you even know why a wolf howls?" So much new information was swimming in Stiles' head, he could barely keep his thoughts straight. The added drugs didn't help much either.

"Should I?" Scott reflected back apathetically.

"It's a signal. Okay. W-When a wolf's alone it howls to signal it's location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling that means others could have been near by. Maybe even a whole pack of 'em." Scott's eyes widened.

"A whole pack of wolves?" He asked, apprehensively.

"No," Stiles said, hearing how his next statement would sound in his head and knowing that it wouldn't sound nearly as dignified out loud. "Werewolves."

All the fright dropped from Scott's demeanor. His face scrunched annoyingly while he stood from the bed.

"Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Alison in an hour." Scott picked up his bag, ready to leave. Stiles scrambled to stop him.

"I saw you on the field today Scott. Okay, w-what you did wasn't just amazing, alright? It was impossible." Stiles felt almost quitly for saying that. But, he hoped that Scott wouldn't be so naive as to think he magically gained that talent over night. _But magically from a werewolf bite. Yeah, definitely more believable._

"Yeah, so I made a good shot." Scott mumbled, trying another attempt to leave but was only held back again by his best friend who removed his backpack entirely to try and keep him from leaving again.

"No! You made an incredible shot. I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. You know, people can't just suddenly do that over night." He exclaimed. Scott looked down, trying not to hear the disbelief in his friend's voice over how well he played. "And theres the vision and the senses. And don't think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore." He listed, moving his arm for emphasis.

"Okay! Dude, I can't think about this now." Scott said, pushing the thoughts from entering his head. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?! What, no! The full moon's tonight! Don't you get it?"

"What are you trying to do?! I-I just made first line, I got a date with a girl who I-I can't believe wants to go out with me. Everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you tring to ruin it?" Stiles looked up at Scott from his chair after he was done yelling.

"I'm trying to help." He said. "You're cursed, Scott. You know, and it's not just the moon that'll cause you to physically change. It'll also just so happen to be when your blood lust'll be at it's peek."

"Blood lust?" He deadpanned. _I can't believe we are actually having this conversation right now, _Scott thought to himself.

"Yeah, you're urge to kill." Stiles replied seriously. It seemed that Stiles was serious enough for the both of them.

"I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles." He jumped to grab a book off his desk, a big leather bound one with old yellowing pages.

"You have to hear this," He said, opening the book to read a passage from it. "'The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.' Alright? I've never seen anyone raise your pulse like Alison does. You've gotta cancel this date." Stiles stood to retreive Scott's cell phone from his bookbag that was discarded on the bed during their debate. "I'm gonna call her right now."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm cancelling the date." Scott hastely grappled to take the phone back from Stiles.

"No! Give it to me!" Scott grabbed Stiles by his shirt and hurdled him into the wall. The scrawnier boy's back made contact with the hard surface roughly, causing him to wince. Scott balled up the front of Stiles' shirt in his fist and raised a menacing hand as if to punch the him. Stiles prepared to recieve a hit, clenching his jaw and shutting his eyes instinctively. But it never came. After realizing what he was doing, Scott released Stiles. Anger flushed through his body and her turned to swat his hand at the desk chair, knocking it over onto the floor. His chest rose and fell while he tried to catch his breath.

His eyes fell to his best friend, who looked at him knowingly. But didn't say anything.

"I-I'm sorry." Stiles still didn't say anything, the shock of the event that just occured still fresh and stinging. "I-I gotta go get ready f-for that party." Scott walked to the door, looking back at his friend who was still in the same place, breathing deeply. "I'm sorry." He said again, turning and leaving quickly.

Stiles threw his head back against the wall and pushed off to pick up his chair. But when he did, he saw something that made his blood run cold. _Aw shit._

Three claw marks were left in the leather of the chair.

* * *

"I don't ever want to go back." Cara sighed, looking up at the star studded sky.

"C'mon Cara. You need to stop overreacting." Boyd said, looking over at the blonde next to him. They were on the roof of Boyd's house, watching the full moon rise in the sky. There was a fuzzy blue blanket underneath them and a bag of Doritos between them. Boyd even snagged a bottle of his parent's white chocolate vodka, it was currently being clutched by the blonde. He knew how to make her feel better, every time.

"I'm not overreacting. I don't ever want to go back. That woman out right admitted that she doesn't love me as much as she loves Steve." Gulp. "I thought I was getting somewhere tonight Boyd. I really did. But, turns out," Gulp. "I was going exactly where I go every time I try to talk some sense into her." Gulp. "Straight to No One Gives a Fuck About You-Ville." She said as she took yet another swig of the alcohol.

"Ah, c'mon. I give a fuck about you, Curly." Boyd said, snatching the bottle from the blonde and taking another swig. He looked up at the orange and pink sky and laughed.

"What?" Cara inquired, chewing a Dorito.

"The world is so big, Cara. What are we meant to do in it? How are small people like us going to make a difference, be remembered?"

"Well, you aren't small, Boyd. You're quite the opposite. I feel for the kids who have to sit behind you in class, honestly." She giggled, reaching over to rub his head affectionately. He swatted her away. "It's funny because I always call you Tiny, but you're actually way, way, way, way bigger than me." He laughed again. Because of that exact fact, she was always drunk before him. It was one of his favorite parts about drinking with her.

When half the bottle of vodka was gone, Boyd decided to put the lid on and set it aside. Since, Cara was the one who did most of the drinking, she was absolutely hammered. While Boyd was still mostly coherent.

"_I feel like a hero!_" Cara sang out loud. "_And you are my herione! Do you know that your love is the sweatiest sin!_" Boyd tried to quiet the girl while she flailed her arms around to an imaginary song.

"I'm pretty sure you just said sweatiest, Cara. That's definitely not how the song goes, and I don't even know what you're singing." She shook her head quickly, pointing a finger excitedly at him.

"No, no, no, no. I changed it because when you have sex you get really sweaty. And obviously they were talking about sex, because that's a _sin _and I think I made it better so shut your fucking mouth." He laughed, glad that she isn't singing anymore. She yawned and leaned against Boyd, resting her frizzy head on his shoulder.

"Don't you dare fall asleep, Curly." He reprimanded, shaking his shoulder to make her move. She whined and sat up.

"Fine!" She yelled at him, looking back up at the sky. The moon was high up in the sky, shining on them pleasantly. She smiled, bending her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. Boyd did the same, but instead rested his elbows on his knees, looking up at the glowing constellations. A loud clanking drew her attention away though.

"Hey, that's Stilinski's jeep!" She exclaimed, pointing down at it excitedly as it drove down the street. "Slites! Sitles! I-I mean Stiles! Stiles! Dammit, wait up!" Cara went to get up to wave the poor kid down, but Boyd grabbed her arm and kept her from probably severly injuring herself.

"Cara, calm down. The kid is driving."

She huffed and brought her legs back up to rest her chin on them. Boyd sighed, knowing that her pout was coming. Drunk Cara had three phases. Phase one was little girl Cara. She always pouted and acted like a little girl. For Boyd, it was like being back in third grade again, except much more alcohol and swearing.

The blonde stuck her bottom lip out and furrowed her blonde eyebrows. Suddenly, after only a few moments of her renowned pout, she broke her concentration and looked over at her best friend.

"I have a question." She stated, looking expectantly at him.

"Okay."

"How low on the totempole should I go for a guy?" She asked seriously. Boyd looked at her, waiting for her to laugh. Surely, she was joking. But when she didn't, he did.

"Are-Are you serious? Cara, we are the bottom of the totempole, you can't get much lower than us." She frowned.

"Really?"

"Yes, Curly. I thought you would have known that by now." He said, still stifling his laughs.

"Oh," She said, slumping back into herself as Boyd's chuckles began to die down.

"Who is this about, anyways?" He grilled. She shrugged, picking at the shingles beside her. Not even her drunk self was dumb enough to give that up.

"No one," He gave her an unimpressed look.

"I'm not stupid. You were literally just willing to walk off a roof for a kid who was _driving by_. It's Stilinski, isn't it?" He pressed, looking at her with those eyes that could see directly inside of her. Not willing to concede, she started to sing again. Phase two: slutty Cara.

"_I just wanna see you strip right now, cause it's late, babe! I just wanna see you strip, girl, take your time with it!_" She screeched loud enough for a few lights in the houses across the street flicked on. "_Girl, I just wanna see you strip! Goddamn you sexy, for me! Goddamn you sexy, b_-"

"Shut up!" Boyd yelled, clamping a hand over her mouth. "That's it, time to go inside." He said, gently pulling the intoxicated girl from the ground. When he bent over to pick up the bottle, the Doritos, and the blanket, the girl slapped him on the bum and continued to scream song lyrics.

"_Got my shades on, and my Jays on! In the club with a pocket full of ones! This girl booty outta control! Then she go up and down the pole!_" Before Boyd could snatch the girl, she ran down to his bedroom window and leaped inside, still yelling. "_Which one Imma take home?! Get my freak on! If you ain't freakin' you ain't sneakin'! You think I'm playin'? No I'm not! Lemme see you back it up and drop!_" She ran through his house, discarding her shoes and her socks and danced through all of the rooms until she reached the kitchen. "_Yeah, I wanna see your legs in the air! Baby don't worry about your hair, or those tracks! I don't give a damn about that! In the club and they playin' my song! Turn it up and play it all night long! If you think you can, and you know you can, Imma give you all this money, money, money!_"

By the time Boyd set all the stuff down and ran to find the girl she was on his kitchen table, dancing as provocatively as she always did when she was heavily intoxicated.

"C'mon Cara, not right now." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sing the chorus with me, Boyd! C'mon! _I just wanna see you strip right now cause it's late b- _well you have to sing!" She yelled, stomping her foot on one of the placemats. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. "Sing! _I just wanna see you strip right now cause- _Boyd!"

"Cara get off the table!"

"Not until you sing with me!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"**No!**"He yelled, it was so loud he was afriad the neighbours heard him. Cara shrunk down and slid off the table. Boyd angry was never a pleasant sight.

"Sorry," She conceded, slinking past him to lay on the couch with her face in a pillow. Boyd let out a large breath, sulking back to his room to put the Doritos back in the kitchen, the white chocolate vodka back in his parent's liquer cabnet, and the blanket in the laundry room for him to clean tomorrow. Boyd hated yelling at Cara when she was drunk. She always took it harder. If she was sober she would have yelled right back, no problem. But when she was inebriated, she took everything so seriously. It irritated him to no end that she was so different that even her drinking symptoms were backwards. She was still in phase two, though. So, after heaving a great sigh, he slowly walked into his living room where Cara was lying face down on the couch still.

He threw all pride to the wind and took in a deep breath before screaming, "_I just wanna see you strip right now cause it's late, babe!_"

Her head snapped up and she had a huge grin on her face. She quickly scrambled up to stand in front of him while they both sang the dirty song.

"_Girl I just wanna see you strip, girl, take your time with it! Girl I just wanna see you strip! Goddamn you sexy, for me! Goddamn you sexy, baby! Godddamn you sexy! Girl I just wanna see you!_"

"_Pants, shirt, you can take it off! Panties, bra, you can take it off! Red bottom heels, you can take 'em-wait wait, leave 'em on cause I like my woman tall!_" Cara sang loudly on her own while Boyd watched her slowly go into phase three: sleepy Cara.

"_You got a hot mamma, you're hotter than a sauna! I wanna peel them clothes off her body like a banana! The only reason I dress you in that designer, how you do that, is to get you out that Dolce and Gabbana! I throw this money up! She watch it all f-fall! Too-toot that thang up, for a boss. Anything you're wanting laby- I mean, baby, you can have it all. Startin' with my last name, now they call you Miss-Misses McCall!_" She finished, grabbing Boyd's arm so he knows to join her for another chorus.

"_Girl I just wanna see you strip right now cause it's late babe! Girl I just wanna see you strip, girl, take your time with it! Girl I just wanna see you strip! Goddamn you sexy, for me! Goddamn you sexy, baby! Goddamn you sexy! Girl I just wanna see you!_"

Cara did a weird spinning dance move while she was holding Boyd's arm and ended up pulling him down to the ground with her when she drunkenly, not to mention tiredly, stumbled. They were laughing and cackling and Boyd felt like his lungs were shrinking because he was having difficulty pulling in air. When he finally caught his breath he looked over to see Cara passed out beside him. One last chuckle floated into the air before he stood to pick the petite blonde up into his arms and carry her to his bedroom. An air mattress was already blown up and on the ground beside his bed from the last week that she stayed at his house. So he gently laid her down on it and moved to ready himself for his own much needed rest.

He reached out to turn his lamp off once he was under his covers and slowly fell asleep to the sound of snores coming from beside his bed.

* * *

After staying at Boyd's house all of Saturday and most of Sunday, Cara begrudgingly decided it was time for her to go home. It was decided. Boyd's parents were due home that evening and he thought it wouldn't be a good idea to lead them to think that she had overstayed her welcome. So she helped him with his chores and removed all traces of her being there before she embarked on her long trek home.

When she got there she blatantly ignored both of her authority figures and stayed in her room until Monday the next morning. She got up earlier than usual, took a shower, dressed, and used a copius amount of Susan's hair gel to tame her hair while it was still damp. She adorned a grey baseball tee that had forrest green quarter sleeves, a pair of skinny acid wash dark jeans, and the pair of white sneakers she wore to Boyd's on Firday night.

No one was awake still, and after eating breakfast and brushing her teeth she left for her bus stop.

When she made it to school she waited for Boyd in their usual spot and enjoyed the sun on her pale face. When Boyd showed up a few minutes after her arrival they greeted each other warmly and traded pleasantries. After their morning routine they split ways and went to their classes.

When it was finally time to walk into Harrison's jail cell of a classroom, Cara was anxious. The crude teacher didn't look up to acknowledge her with a condescending greeting, so she quickly made her way to her desk. She wasn't the target of harsh humiliation during the entire class, in fact she wasn't called on once the whole time. So when the class was over she aprehensively approached his desk.

"Uh, Mister Harrison?" He looked up from his papers and reguarded the girl with an impassive glare.

"Yes?"

"Um, do I have to report to detention today? Or am I done with them now?" He leaned over his desk, crossing his arms and sighing.

"What did I say when we spoke in the hall?" He asked. Cara helplessly shrugged, clutching the strap of her bag tightly. Other students were beginning to come in and wait for the class to start.

"I don't remember."

"I said that you would be having these detentions for a long time. Has it been a long time yet, Miss Rodgers?" He patronized the girl with his words, making her face go red with anger.

"I'm not sure, sir." She said through clenched teeth. Being made a fool in front of the kids who had decided to report to class early was not what she had in mind when she aproached Harrison.

"Well, I don't think it has. I think that you need to report to detention today and everyday this week, also." Cara's mouth opened in rage. Her nostrils flared and her face grew hot. The only reason she was getting so worked up was because she was hell bent on staying calm, and not being able to say what was on her mind made her insides tense like a shaken bottle of soda.

"But, Mister Harrison, I have been nothing if not a pleasant and compliant student for the past week." She said clenching her fist at her side so that the teacher could not see it.

"Would a _pleasant _and _compliant _student stand here and argue with me? I don't think so. So please, move on to your next class Miss Rodgers." He stated with finality, looking back down at the papers on his desk. With white hot anger pumping through her veins, she turned and stalked slowly out of the class.

"Cara!" She heard someone yell from behind her. She turned to come face to face with Stiles Stilinski himself, running out of the very class she just left. She stopped and took a deep breath, not wanting to take her anger and frustration out on the innocent boy. "Cara, hey." He said after he caught up to her. She flashed him a tight-lipped smile.

"Hey, Stiles." He tried to suavely lean against the wall, but stumbled a little and hastely straightened himself out again, crossing his arms momentarily over his chest. Then thought better of it and let them dangle at his sides.

"Wha-What's up?" He asked, straightening his yellow graphic t-shirt.

"Not much. Hate Harrison's guts, but not much." Stiles nodded his head at her statement.

"How-"

"So-"

They both went to talk at the same time and then laughed for a moment before Stiles spoke up again.

"You go first." He said, using a small hand gesture. Cara had to fight to keep a grin off her face and brought her hands to both of her bag straps.

"Uh, how are you?" She asked lamely. He chuckled a little, rubbing the back of his head.

"Okay, I guess. I mean, I-I have Harrison's class next so how good could I possibly be?" He joked, never dropping his contagious smile. "So, what did you do this weekend?"

"I got a little hammered on Friday night actually, but I think I had fun." Stiles laughed.

"Did you go to Lydia's party?" He asked, leaning against the wall again, but this time he didn't stumble. Cara's eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head lightly, causing her hair to bounce around her head.

"No, I got drunk at my friend's house. Just me and him. I didn't even know there was a party." Cara replied, deserting her straps and crossing her arms over her chest.

"No wonder I didn't see you there." He said, chuckling nervously. "Your-uh, your friend, are you-are you guys close?" Stiles stuttered out.

"Um, yeah. You could say that." Cara said, lifting her right shoulder carelessly. Stiles nodded, reaching up to itch behind his ear compulsively.

"Thats cool." He uttered.

"So what's it like being invited to a party at _the _Lydia Martin's house?" The blonde inquired, fingering the bottom of her top. Nothing made her more restless than trying to hold up a conversation with someone who either A) made her nervous or B) she didn't know or like. So finding something to do with her hands was high up on her list of stresses of the day.

"Uh, it's not, like, as glamorous as you'd think. I was dealing with my best friend's-uh, drama for most of the night so. I guess I'm not the right person to ask that-um, particular question." He said, fumbling slightly. Cara nodded. Regretfully, her eyes landed on the clock behind Stiles' head. She had a minute and a half to get to class.

"I gotta get to class."

"Right, yeah. Me too." He said, watching her walk around him to report to her next class of the day. His eyes followed her down the hallway until she turned to walk up the stairs.

He shook his head to himself.

_Get your head in the game, Stilinski._

* * *

_A/N_

_So ya. okay well there's chapter threee. sorry if there are any mistakes. I try my best.  
Honestly, coming up with titles is the most fun, and this one wasn't that great but the next two are hysterical I promise you.  
Anyways, much love to the five people who follow the story and the one who faved. It means the world._

_-blahicantthinkofaname Xoxo_


	6. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Chapter Four: __**The Ever Pressing Questions of Sexuality and Shapeshifting**_

* * *

"Cara, no."

"Aw, c'mon Boyd. It'll be fun."

"I'm not going."

"Please."

"No."

Cara sighed. "You could at least lie and say you have plans or something."

"You would know I'm lying." Boyd told her, walking with her to her locker. They had run into each other in the hallway, since Boyd's class was in the library today, and decided to accompany each other to their next classes. "Besides, if I had plans, you would be a part of them." She nodded as they skipped down a flight of stairs.

"Why do you always violently avoid lacrosse, hmm? I just want to go to a game, I'm not going to force you into a uniform and make you tackle offensive players. I just wanna watch."

"Because I'd rather spend my Saturday night doing something fun. I don't feel like sitting in the cold to watch a bunch of guys play hockey with butterfly nets." Cara shook her head.

"Well, I'm going whether you go with me or not. So you can kiss this drinking buddy goodbye for the weekend." The blonde ran a hand through her ringlets and let out a large breath as they neared her locker. Getting Boyd to go out on a weekend was an especially difficult task. She opened her locker and quickly collected her books.

"Why are you so stubborn?" He asked, leaning on the lockers next to her's.

"Are you seriously asking _me_ that?" She deadpanned. "You're the one who won't go to a stupid lacrosse game with me. Just come. Be social. For once in your '_comfortably isolated_' life." Cara knew Boyd was the opposite of comfortable with their lives as outcasts. But she also knew that Boyd hated when she pointed it out. She shut her locker quietly, turning to face Boyd who looked less than happy with her at that moment.

"Why are you pressing so hard Cara? I dont wanna go!" He said forcefully, making Cara blink in surprise.

"Why not? It's one night! I'm not making you sign up for a season pass." She retorted, clutching her bag strap harder than needed.

"Just drop it, alright! I'm done talking about this." He exclaimed. His eyes closed, trying to keep himself from screaming at the girl in front of him. His eyes opened and narrowed at the girl. "I'm going to class. See ya later." Without giving the blonde a chance to respond he pushed past her to go to his own locker. Cara huffed, turning to walk in the opposite direction. _Unbelievable_.

When Cara neared the flight of stairs that would lead her to her next period, English, she saw Stiles leaning over another boy while they peered stealthily around a corner. Well, depending on how you defined _stealthily_.

"Stiles?" Cara called, coming closer to the two peculiar boys. The pale one jumped away from the other and looked up at the blonde.

"Oh, h-hey, Cara." Stiles stuttered, reaching behind him to rub his neck. The other one just awkwardly waved a little, considering he didn't know who she was, nor did she know him. "What's-uh, what's up?"

"Nothing. Uh, what were you just doing?" She asked, lifting up a suspicious blonde eyebrow. They both shrugged, looking to the other to explain. Scott gave Stiles a clamorous look, as if to say, _"You know her, you explain." _Stiles sighed.

"We were just, um, looking for um, l-looking for you! Yeah, looking for you!"

"For me?" She repeated doubtfully. Over the past week Stiles and Cara had kept their pleasantries to a minimum. They only ever really interacted in passing. When she was leaving Harrison's class and he was entering, or when they saw each other in the halls. Saying hi and asking about each other's day or how they were doing. Obviously, neither on actually disclosed on their particular situations. On a typical day, she would have glided right past the boy without so much as a look. But their peculiar actions couldn't have been overlooked with out an explanation. Stiles and Scott traded looks once more before Stiles nodded, crossing his arms unceremoniously.

"Totally, yeah. I was just going to um, ask you if you were going to the game tomorrow night." He stated, unsure. Cara nodded, pushing an especially annoying piece of bushy hair behind her ear.

"I was planning on it, yeah." She said, looking between the two. "Do you guys play?"

"We do, as a matter of fact. Unfortunately though, Scott here has to sit out this game." Stiles said, throwing a loose arm around his best friend. "Serious aggression issues to work on." Cara gave them a curious look.

"Isn't that a good thing to have in lacrosse?"

"Not when you dislocate a guy's shoulder during practice." Stiles replied back, earning a whack in the abdomen from Scott. He shrugged off the arm on his shoulder.

"That was an accident." He mumbled, looking at Cara cautiously. She flashed another smile, dropping it seconds later.

"Eh, dude probably deserved it." Stiles wildly waved his arms around.

"That's what I said! Jackson is a total tool." Cara's ears perked up.

"Whittemore?" She asked nonchalantly.

"The one and only." She nodded. They stood silent for a moment and Cara grew impatient waiting for Stiles to introduce her, so he turned to the boy with tan skin and floppy hair. "I'm Cara." Scott smiled, gripping the handles of his bag.

"Scott." He replied. Although it was redundant since Stiles already mentioned who he was. "Stiles has told me a bit about you. It's cool to finally meet you." She flashed him a closed mouth simper quickly before turning back to Stiles.

"You're god-awful at introductions, dude." She said, jokingly. Stiles laughed, itching his nose uncomfortably.

"Yeah, I guess I am." He said before quickly realizing that him and Scott had more important things at hand and class was going to start any minute. "Well, I'll look for you tomorrow. See you around. Bye!" He grabbed Scott by the shoulders and hauled him off in another direction to grill him on what his dad was talking about to the principal.

"She seemed nice." Scott said, looking back to see the blonde giving them an amused look before walking up the steps like previously planned. "She didn't smile much though."

"That's great. What did my dad say?" Stiles asked, ignoring the warning bell that rang over head.

"There's a curfew, because of the body." He replied, trying not to think about the fact that he could over hear a conversation that was happening over twenty feet away.

"Unbelievable." He said, exhaling. "My dad's out looking for a rabid animal while the jerk-off who actually killed a girl is just hanging out, doing whatever he wants."

"Well you can't exactly tell your dad the truth about Derek." Scott pointed out, leaning against the wall behind him while Stiles couldn't even stand still. This whole thing was beginning to go way over their heads. Secrets. Murder. Supernatural creatures. When was it going to stop?

"I can do something." Stiles declared with conviction.

"Like what?" Scott asked ambiguously.

"Find the other half of the body." This time, Stiles' determination was waning. But, he wasn't going to back down. He gave Scott a dauntless look and turned to leave him standing there gaping.

"Are you kidding?" Scott called after him. But it was no use. Stiles was gone and nothing Scott told him could have changed his mind anyways.

* * *

_"Hey, this is Boyd. Um, sorry I missed your call. I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks." Beep._

"Uh, hey. It's me. Cara. Um, I know you saw that it was me calling and ignored it. I'm sorry that I was pressuring you to go to the game but I was just hoping that maybe we could do something normal for once, ya know? I know you're mad and all but you can't ignore me forever. The game is at seven tomorrow. I hope you'll be there. Bye." Cara hit the end button and put the land line back on the hook. She was at home and that was exactly where she didn't want to be. But, her tiff with Boyd made it impossible for her to go anywhere else.

"Boy troubles?" Steve asked from his La-Z-Boy. Cara ignored him and started to make dinner, since no one else would. A jar of spaghetti sauce, tomato soup, browned ground beef, and Italian seasoning was simmering in a pot on the gas stove when the land line started to ring loudly, making the blonde jump. She clambered to answer it, hoping it was Boyd.

She was profusely disappointed when it was a doctor at Beacon Hills Hospital.

"Do you know a Susan R. Duncan?" The robotic voice droned. Cara sighed, keeping a close eye on her cooking food. Susan and Cara had different last names due to the fact that not only did her mom and dad never marry, but she was given her father's surname when she was born. And when Susan married Steve she took his name; Duncan. Her mother's original maiden name was Locke. So whether Susan married the piece of slime or not, they would still have different cognomens.

"Yes, this is her daughter. What did she do this time?" She wondered, more than annoyed to be bothered with her mother's irresponsible behavior.

"It seems that she had a nasty fall outside of Timmy's Tavern. She's heavily intoxicated and has requested that you come down to the hospital to pick her up." She sighed again, reaching to turn the burner underneath the pot to low.

"I'll be down there soon." She didn't wait to hear what else the doctor said before hanging up. She grabbed her coat and turned to the useless lump of fat in the living room.

"Your wife is in the hospital." Cara said, knowing full well that he didn't care. Steve was engrossed in the show on the TV and barely acknowledged her with a wave of his hand. She rolled her eyes and retrieved the keys to Steve's junker to drive to the hospital.

* * *

Cara strolled through the automatic doors of the hospital and made a beeline for the front desk. She had been in the hospital enough times to know where everything was located. Either due to her own arrogance, or her mother's drunken escapades.

"Can you tell me where Susan Duncan is please?" Cara asked the woman behind the counter. Without looking up, she typed the name into the directory and gave Cara an answer quickly. She also informed her that her mom was given an aspirin to help with the developing hang over.

Stiles eyes shot up upon hearing Cara's voice. _What are the odds? _He thought, watching her talk to a nurse over the packet he picked up after being thoroughly shot down by Lydia.

When Cara turned to go where the nurse had told her, her jade eyes caught amber ones. A corner of her mouth ticked up as she walked over to him. But, she couldn't help but snort when her gaze landed on the booklet he held in his hands.

"What an interesting read you have there." She observed, watching him flush before lowering the pamphlet titled _"Menstrual Cycle" _down to rest on his jeans.

"It's important stuff to know." He recovered, running a hand over his prickly head.

"I'm sure." She said, dubiously. Stiles shrugged impishly.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, genuinely curious. Cara opened her mouth but was distracted by someone walking in their general direction. Cara had above par peripheral vision. She looked and it was none other than Jackson Whittemore sauntering over to meet his strawberry blonde girlfriend. He was just as attractive as ever, rubbing his shoulder. Gu_ess Stilinski was telling the truth. _

Cara looked down at Stiles and saw him watching them, too. His eyes narrowed when they kissed obnoxiously. He had lifted the pamphlet back up to cover his face. It dawned on Cara that Stiles probably had feelings for Lydia. It seemed that everyone, guys and girls, was enamored with her. Well he could have been looking at Jackson, she wasn't close enough to Stiles to know his sexuality and it could very well have been a possibility. She looked at him closer.

_Not wearing those clothes._

Someone came up from behind and snatched the booklet from Stiles' hands, making him jump. "Holy- god." He relaxed when he saw it was Scott. The vertical boy went to say something, then realized that Cara was in earshot. He smiled at her stiffly.

"Hey Cara." He said. She waved awkwardly. "What are you doing here?"

"My mom," She said apathetically. Both boys' eyes grew wide as if her mom was in some kind of mortal terror. Cara raised her hands. "No, no. She's fine. She's just drunk off her ass. Had a nasty fall. No big deal. I only came to pick her up. " They nodded, perplexed.

"Oh," Stiles said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I actually should probably be going to do that. See you guys at the game tomorrow night." She called as she walked backwards away from them. They waved before she turned around and continued down the hall to where the woman at the desk said she was.

She walked into a room with four beds along one wall to the right of the door and six plastic chairs lined up along the opposite one to the left. The fluorescent lights were bright and the walls were a painfully stark white. There was only one person present, laying on a bed with her arm over her eyes to shield them from the assault of the room.

"Mom," Cara said, walking to stand next to the bed.

"Hmmmmm." She replied, her groan muffled by her own appendage. Cara swatted the older woman's arm away. Cara noticed a large sterile bandage covering the woman's left temple and a scrape on her forearm that was flowered with a purple bruise. "No! It's too bright." She complained, squinting her eyes desperately.

"Time to go home, mom. Come on." She grabbed her uninjured arm, dragged her off the bed and guided the inebriated woman down the hallway towards the exit. She was grumbling the whole way.

"I didn't want you, Corkscrew! I wanted Steve to co-come pick me up." Susan said to her daughter as they continued to their destination. Cara stopped as quickly as possible at the front desk to scribble her signature where it was needed so they could be on their way."I don't need my _daughter-_" Hiccup. "-to treat me like a baby, where's Steve?" As they neared the automatic door Cara saw that Stiles and Scott were still there, though they looked like they were leaving. They heard her mom mumbling incriminating things to the blonde while she pulled the taller one passed them. Cara barely acknowledged them, thoroughly ashamed at her mother's behavior.

She herded her mom into the Fuego and hastily drove back to the trailer. Cara began to wonder what ditch her mom would be laying in, dead, if Cara didn't stick around like she did. Steve was good for nothing, and Susan couldn't even cook without either cutting off an appendage or setting something on fire. And if it weren't for Cara hiding half of Steve's disability checks in a lasagna box, then they would be bankrupt beyond fixing. Admittedly, she stole the idea from a TV show, but that didn't matter. And if Cara didn't clean the house, then both Susan and Steve would sit in a pit of filth, uncaring. Cara was the only thing keeping her mother alive. And even though she never got anything in return, and she despised her mother, she couldn't just leave her to fend for herself. Susan would self destruct herself without Cara, whether she knew it or not, and the blonde would be damned if the bitch got out of her responsibilities that easily. Well, that's what she tells herself, at least.

When they pulled into the driveway Susan pushed the door open before the car was even in park and clambered out. Cara sighed, walking around to help her mom into the front door and to her room. "Take a shower mom. You smell like piss and beer." She pushed her mom in the direction of the bathroom connected to their bedroom.

When she walked out into the living room to see Steve unmoved, she asked: "Did I get any calls?" Cara was hoping that Boyd had called while she was out being the mom.

"Uh- no, I don't think so." She sighed, and instead of trusting his word, she picked up the phone and looked for herself. And Steve had told the truth, no one called. Going into the kitchen to continue cooking spaghetti, she couldn't help but be more worried about Stiles seeing her embarrassing mother than whether her best friend would go to the lacrosse game tomorrow night.

* * *

"Mom, stop fighting me!" Cara yelled, trying to get her invalid of a mother to swallow a little white pill. "Just take the goddamn pill!"

"Stop manhandling me!" Susan screamed in the blonde's face. She evaded the pill like she was born doing it.

"I have to go! And I know that you or Steve won't bother with the medicine. You are in pain, take the freaking pill." She stopped trying to force the pain killer into her mom's mouth and held it out calmly with the glass of water that was on the end table beside the couch.

"Where are _you _going? Got a hot date with Boyd?" She teased maliciously, snatching the pill and swallowing it dry, waving off the water. Cara sighed and set the cup back down.

"I'm leaving. Don't wait up." She said simply, turning to grab her coat and tuck her skinny jeans into a pair of black Doc Martins. They were her mom's in the nineties, but Susan barely ever gave them a thought anymore. She didn't even recognize them on her daughter's feet while she watched Cara get ready to leave. She threw on a knit cap and shoved a pair of gloves in her pocket, waiting until she was at the game to actually use them. She slipped out the door into the cold and started her long walk to the lacrosse game. Cara doubted that when she got there that she would want to sit in the bleachers and withstand the cold any longer, but she hoped that by the time she got there, she would be numbed.

Walking onto the field, there was already a lot of people in the stands waiting for the lacrosse game to start. And some players were already seated on the bench. Her eyes combed through the crowd looking for an opening when she saw one directly behind the benches. She grinned and ran over to claim it. After a moment of shivering a man sat down beside her, making sure to sit a socially acceptable distance from the girl. For that, she was thankful.

The crowd was buzzing with excitement for the first game of the season but Cara's eyes watched the entrance to the field compulsively. Still no Boyd. She doubted that he was coming, but that didn't make it hurt less.

Distracted by inspecting the opening to the field, she didn't see Stiles come over and sit down on the bench directly in front of her. He himself was too distracted by the stress of tonight's game to notice the girl. There were multiple players loitering between them anyways.

A loud whistle blew, making Cara jump. All the players ran out onto the field save for the players on the bench while the man beside her stood to walk over to the bench. She followed him with her eyes, having nothing else to do, and saw him walk over to talk briefly with a player. She recognized his buzz cut and his jumpiness immediately. A smile flitted onto her lips for a moment, finally seeing someone she recognized.

Cara waited for the man to sit back down, not looking to have an awkward encounter with him. She barely paid attention to the game that was commencing while she went over to say hi to Stiles. She tapped his shoulder, making him jump.

"Dear god," He sighed, seeing it was Cara. He dropped his mitt from being between his teeth and took a deep breath. "Cara, don't do that to me." She snickered.

"Why aren't you playing?" She asked, ignoring his comment. He itched the back of his head momentarily.

"Uh, um, y-ya know. Someone's gotta keep the bench warm." He stated while looking back out at the field to keep an eye on Scott.

"That's a very important job." She said. He didn't pay much attention to her comfort, what with an amateur werewolf on the field on the verge of shifting at any given moment.

"Dammit!" He exclaimed, startling Cara. She looked out at the field and saw a player in burgundy laying on the ground while another one scored a point. "Sorry," He said impishly. The score board gave Beacon Hills a point while everyone in the stands stood to cheer loudly.

"It's fine. I'm gonna go back and watch the game." He nodded, not looking over at the blonde. "And P.S. I think I'm sitting next to your dad." She said quickly before turning around and hurrying back to the bleachers. It was a risk, making an assumption like that, but Stiles expression only solidified her conclusion. Stiles' head flipped around and eyed his father, who was watching the pair curiously. His eyes widened in terror as the sheriff leaned over to talk to the girl. He turned back, not having the mindset to deal with this and continued to watch the game.

"Hey," Mr. Stilinski said to the blonde to get her attention. She turned to acquiesce the older man. "I'm Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles' dad." He offered her a hand. She shook it in her shivering one. It seemed to get colder and colder the longer the game went on.

"Cara Rodgers." She shot him a quick smile that dropped when he smiled back. "A friend."

"It's nice to meet you." He said, slyly. The Sheriff was delighted to know that Stiles had friends other than Scott, especially pretty little blonde ones who talked to him despite his avid bench sitting. Cara gave the man a curt nod and turned her eyes back to the game ahead of them. It was weird, meeting the man that raised Stiles. They weren't at all alike except for the minor similarities in their looks. She figured it must have been his mom who he got all of his hilarity and spunk from.

Cara was barely paying attention, with the cold, the insolent cheering, and sitting next to a sheriff. Keeping up with the rules and players was next to impossible. But when the score was 3-5, with the other team ahead, things finally started to get interesting.

When the players were at the scrimmage, and the whistle blew, both players went for the ball, but it ended up flying high up into the air at their power struggle. It sailed through the air and just when it was about to land in a guest's net, one of Beacon Hill's own jumped up in a nearly perfect jete to catch it. He basically leaped over a whole player to retrieve the globoid. The crowd erupted in hysterics while they watched him bob and weave down the field and score a point. Cara didn't think it was possible, but the cheering got louder and even more obnoxious. Cara smiled seeing Stiles jump up and excitedly high five the other players on the bench.

The cheering was ear piercing and Cara couldn't help but stand up with the rest of the stands and cheer also. Although, she put much less effort into it than the sheriff next to her. During all the spectating and happiness, the players went back to scrimmage and after the opposing team got a hold of the ball, it was ran down the field until the poor kid was cornered by number 11, the same one who caused the rave in the first place. He tossed the ball straight into the burgundy player's net and let him fly past.

_I'm not sure how lacrosse works, but I don't think that's what's supposed to happen._

Number 11 threw the ball at the net, and Cara and the rest of the stands watched as it went straight into the goalie's crosse and straight out the back, leaving a gaping hole in it. But that didn't stop the fans from standing and cheering once more. Despite the obvious fuss, Beacon Hills was rewarded the point.

The two teams were now tied with a score of 5-5. And with only 39 seconds left of the fourth quarter, things were heating up. This next goal would be the last. The crowd was abuzz with adrenaline, hoping that the last goal would be theirs. The two captains met at the scrimmage and prepared for the battle for the ball. When the whistle blew, Beacon Hills was the one who triumphed and quickly passed it down the field. Number 11 inevitably wound up with the ball and he was trapped between four players of the opposing team. The time was waning. He looked perplexed, deciding what to do in his predicament.

With mere seconds left, his arms reached behind him as two players came rushing at him, ambushing him. He hurled his stick forward and with great force, the ball flew into the net mere milliseconds before the whistle blew.

If Cara thought the cheers before were loud before, they were nothing compared to that moment. The crowd erupted and many people ran out onto the field to congratulate the team. Cara made a beeline for Stiles.

"Oh my god! That was awesome!" She said, coming up to him with the biggest grin he had ever seen grace her face. Scratch that, the only grin he had ever seen grace her face. His own mouth opened wide at the sight. Sure, she had smirked, simpered, sneered, but never had he ever seen her full out grin. It really was a sight to behold.

"Yeah! I thought we were done for but man, Scott really saved our asses." He said, catching his breath.

"I thought Scott wasn't going to play?" Cara asked, puzzled. Stiles shrugged, taking a seat on the bench while the sheriff waded through the crowd to meet his son.

"Things changed." Was what Stiles said before his father reached him, smiling happily. Although, he would have loved to see his own son having a hand in the victory.

"Great play tonight, kid." He said, patting him on the back.

"I was on the bench the whole time, dad."

"Well, you did a good job at it." He said. Then his phone rang, grabbing his attention away from the two teens. He grimaced, flipping it open to answer. "Sorry," He mouthed, but Stiles waved him off.

"So what's it like having a dad who's also a sheriff?" Cara asked, sitting next to the skinny boy. He shrugged, picking at his mitt again.

"I don't know, what's it like having a dad who's not a sheriff?" She smirked, reaching into her pocket to grasp her wool gloves and pull them on to relieve her poor fingers from the frigid air.

"Touche," Cara wasn't looking to engage in that particular conversation with Stiles just yet. He smiled but then looked up at his dad, seeing his distressed expression. "Dad, what's wrong?" He inquired, only to receive a a finger telling him to wait in response. Cara remained silent.

"Thanks, doc." She heard the sheriff say into the phone before hanging up. He looked at Stiles. "The medical examiner just got done examining the body." He said.

"Well, what did he say?" Stiles pushed, scrambling to be eye level with his father. The sheriff sighed.

"It wasn't a human who killed the girl, it was a wild animal."

"What! W-What do you mean it was an animal? You arrested Derek Hale, remember?" Stiles argued. Neither of them even gave a thought to the young blonde sitting perfectly silent in earshot of the conversation.

"He said that there was no way that the marks on the body could have been made by a human. It was an animal. Most likely a mountain lion." He stated calmly. Stiles let out an exasperated breath, shaking his head. "And they also identified the body as Laura Hale."

"Derek's what? Sister?" Stiles asked seriously. Cara watched the conversation with amusement. She felt like she was in the middle of a procedural cop show.

"Yeah."

"So, you're just letting him out of jail?" The sheriff sighed, again.

"Yes Stiles. We have no evidence to hold him. He's being released tonight." Stiles didn't say anything more on the matter. He took a deep breath and looked behind him, remembering that Cara was still there, listening. He gave her a smile and turned back to his dad.

"Well, me and Cara should be going." Cara was perplexed, but played along.

"And where are you two going?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at the pair. Stiles fidgeted a moment, thinking of a response.

"We're heading out with the rest of the team for the celebration." She said with conviction, looking the sheriff right in the eyes. Stiles relaxed, happy to not be the only one who could string bull shit together to cover people's asses.

"Oh," He said, pleasantly surprised for the second time that night. "Well, have fun, don't be out late."

"Wouldn't dream of it, pops." Stiles said before gathering up his equipment, grabbing Cara's arm, and rushing off the field in the direction of the school, sending a small wave to his dad on the way. Cara stayed silent and only questioned the boy when they were well out of earshot of the sheriff.

"Okay, what the hell?" Stiles grimaced, letting go of the blonde while they continued to enter into the school.

"Look, thanks for covering for me back there, but I really need to talk to Scott." Cara lifted her shoulder, shrugging off his thanks.

"Well, I'll come with you." Cara told him, walking beside him in the direction of the boys' locker room. Stiles stopped, grabbing her fore arm gently to stop her.

"I actually need to talk to him alone."

"Oh," She said. "Um, okay. I get it, I'll just head on home then." She turned away from him into the direction of the doors, trying not to look hurt about it.

"No, wait, crap." Stiles muttered, stopping Cara from turning back and exiting. "You can wait outside, ya know, I'll give you a ride when I'm done talking to Scott. You can't exactly accompany me anyways, the boys locker room and all." Cara nodded, pulling her hat closer to her head.

"No, I think I am gonna go home, actually." She looked up and saw Stiles' reluctant face and tried to smile. "Great game tonight. Really." He smiled back, watching her leave until she was out of his sight completely.

* * *

_A/N_

_So, I just realized, Cara's last name is Rodgers. And her step-dad's name is Steve. I think that while I was developing this story, my subconscious was letting me know that my obsession for Captain America and Marvel runs deeper than I thought._  
_But, anyways. That's chapter four. I know it's probably not what a lot of you wanted, but, what are ya gonna do? That's life. _  
_Thanks to the 17 people who follow the story and the 11 people who favorite it. _  
_Also thanks to the two who reviewed. It meant the world. _  
_And starting right now, updates will probably be a lot slower. I only have up to chapter five completely done, and I'm in the process of writing six. So I'm always going to be a few chapter ahead. And I mentioned in a previous chapter that I will be updating once a week, and so far I have done nothing to honor that commitment, not that you guys probably mind. But, it's the principle really, and I'm going to try to stay true to my word._  
_Thank you for listening to my meaningless babble._

_Love, _

_blahicantthinkofaname Xoxo_

_(I think I need to think of an actual name idk)_


	7. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Chapter Five: __**Train Wrecks and Gay Friendship, Fall Out Boy Song Title or Another Day at Beacon Hills?**_

* * *

Cara stood outside of the school on Monday, anxiously waiting for Boyd. She wasn't sure if they were okay or if he was still not talking to her. She didn't see him on Saturday at the game and he still hadn't answered her calls. When her eyes landed on the tall, dark skinned boy, she ran to him to make sure he didn't glide by her.

"Boyd!" She called, getting his attention in the cluster of students loitering outside the school. "Wait a second!" He sighed, waiting for her to catch up. "Look, I'm sorry Boyd."

"I know." He said, looking her straight in the eyes. "You've said that in my voicemail for the past three days."

"Okay, I'm sorry about that too. But I just don't wanna lose our friendship over something so stupid and petty." Boyd's eyes softened slightly. But he stood his ground. He was bound and determined to teach Cara a lesson. She needed to realize that her actions had consequences.

"Sometimes you just don't know when to shut up, Cara."

"I know, and I'll work on that." She said with conviction. "And I know I'm not the best friend in the world to put up with, but you know how. You are the only person who can deal with me the right way, Boyd." She tried to crack a smile at him, but it looked more like a grimace.

"And you have a hard time dealing with your problems."

"Yes, I'll work on that too." She claimed, insecurely pushing a lock of straightened blonde hair behind her ear.

"And you need to learn that your actions create consequences." He finished, turning to walk away from the blonde without waiting to hear a response. Cara sighed, wishing to turn to sludge and sink into the ground so she wouldn't have to face the school day alone.

After stopping at her locker, she decided she needed a breath of air to clear her head. So she turned to step outside through the school's back doors. Her small pale hands opened the metal open with push.

"Holy shit," The blonde whispered to herself, staring at the scene in front of her. There was a school bus. Except the school bus' back door was bent and mangled and hanging off it's hinges while bloody hand prints were smudged all over it. The back seats of the bus that she could see were torn and stuffing was falling out. It looked like a murder scene straight out of a crime show. Police officers and forensic crew members were scattered all over, examining the bus behind crime scene tape. Cara immediately turned, pulling herself back into the school and away from the horrific sight before she could see any more. _Holy fucking shit. There- there was blood. A-A lot of fucking blood. Holy-oh my god_. Cara's hand covered her mouth in terror. _How could they just leave the bus there? In-in a school parking lot. With kids? And-And teenagers who can just walk out and-and see it. I mean- I-I think I'm gonna have a panic attack._

Ever since Cara was seven and witnessed her mother cutting the tip of her finger off with a steak knife she has been terrified of copious amounts of blood. The one time Susan made an attempt to cook on Thanksgiving, she ended up being too tipsy to cut straight. A seven year old Cara had to call an ambulance to keep her mother from pouring old whiskey on it and bandaging it with duct tape.

**Calm down, Cara. **She heard a voice in the back of her mind tell her. It sounded like Boyd. **I'm right here. Everything is okay.**

_But you're not here. A-And it's-it's happening. _Cara's brain stuttered while she compulsively pushed her hair behind her ear. _I'm having a panic attack._

**You're not going to have a panic attack Cara. You're going to be fine. **She nodded to herself, but she could feel the sweat building on her neck and on her forehead. Her chest constricted painfully. Her fingertips were tingling. Her legs wanted desperately to give out from underneath her.

_"Attention students, this is your principal. I know you're all wondering about the incident that occured last night to one of our buses, but while the police work to determine what happened, classes will proceed as scheduled. Thank you."_

The announcement made Cara jump. It was enough to bring her back to reality, make her realize where she was. How she got there. And that she was in the middle of a school hallway. She struggled to catch her breath, holding a hand to her chest. But, instead of standing there any longer, forcing her to remember the scene outside, she took a deep breath and drug herself through the hall to her first period. Math.

* * *

Despite her mild panic attack that morning, she successfully put the scene from her mind. She threw her entire self into the story her class was reading in English and fiercely answered all the questions the teacher asked in Math. Whether they were right or not. The students and the teachers were taken aback by her sudden passion but didn't dare question her. The teachers couldn't have been happier that she showed interest in the material and the students were more than willing to let her take all the questions for them.

But, her distraction was in vain because halfway through her English class a girl stood up to point out the window.

"Look! Look! They found something!" Cara stayed in her seat while the other students congregated around the window. She ignored their chatter. But she did jump with everyone else when they heard a scream. It was distorted and painful, Cara shut her eyes tight to block it out. Picturing a mangled, shredded, bloody body to match the petrified scream. Bile rose in her throat and she had to hold her breath to keep from puking all over her desk. But, she refused to get up. Her muscles locked in place, refusing to move. Even after everyone sat down, she stayed still. Even when the teacher continued to ask questions and read passages, Cara ignored him. She only moved after the bell rang and she had to make her way to lunch.

* * *

"But dreams aren't memories." Stiles reassured Scott as they slumped down at their lunch table. He had been freaking out the whole day, worry plaguing his entirety. Stiles had been consoling him though, trying to distract him. Albeit, Scott just couldn't let it go.

"But it wasn't a dream." Scott reminded him. "Okay, something happened last night and I can't remember what."

"What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?" Stiles pressed, grabbing the orange on his tray and beginning to peel it. That was another thing Stiles was trying to put from Scott's head. _Derek._

"Because during the full moon he wasn't changed." The shaggy haired boy said, ignoring his food completely. "He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some innocent guy."

"You don't know that."

"I don't not know it." Scott fired back, feeling anxiety build in his stomach thinking about the possibility of maiming a man. "I can't go out with Alison, I have to cancel."

"No, you're not canceling. You can't just cancel your entire life." Stiles said, thinking quietly in his head just how screwed they were. But he would never voice his worries to his already unstable best friend. "We'll figure it out."

"Figure what out?" Cara asked, plopping in the seat next to Stiles as if she sat there everyday. He had to do a double take to realize it was her, her hair was pin straight and it fell a few inches past her shoulders, instead of it's usual springy curls that rested at the base of her neck. They both gave her a weird look, then shared a puzzled look with each other.

"Homework." Scott covered fast.

"You have this lunch?" Stiles asked without paying Scott's attempt at a cover any attention. She smirked, picking up her plastic fork to pick into her food.

"Yup." Cara decided that sitting with Boyd today would be a bad idea. And she thanked her lucky stars when she saw Stiles and Scott sitting at a vacant table after she exited the lunch line.

"Not to be rude but why are you sitting with us?" Scott asked, but Cara was never given the opportunity to answer because Lydia Martin herself took a seat beside Scott. After the initial shock dissipated, confusion quickly filled it's spot. They peered at her with dumbstruck expressions and were met with a condescending simper, and another person sat at the head of the table. He was tall and had shaggy hair and a plaid shirt. He smiled at Lydia, as if they were old friends. And then another boy sat down on the other side of Stiles. He was tan and built and was wearing a skin tight red shirt. And then another one walked over, smiling brightly at Scott as he moved his bag to give the girl an open seat.

"Thanks," She said, setting her tray down and sitting in front of Cara. She obviously was Scott's friend, since Alison had never seen her in the tight circle that Lydia likes to keep at her disposal. The dark haired girl smiled at Cara then, realizing neither of them knew each other. Alison wanted to make sure she knew all of Scott's friends. She had no intention of assuming Scott would always ditch his friends for her and didn't want sore feelings between them when he did, or vise versa. Little did she know though, Cara wasn't exactly close with the floppy haired kid. "I'm Alison." She said, setting her bag down next to her on the floor.

"Cara," She said shortly before her eyes moved to see yet _another _person coming to sit with them, but she stopped quickly, seeing Jackson Whittemore tell the boy at the head of the table to move.

"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" He asked begrudgingly.

"Cause I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot." The one in red shot back, smirking as he watched the boy move to another table. She immediately realized that Danny was the mediator, watching as he started a conversation among the table as soon as possible. "So I heard they're saying it's some sort of animal attack. Probably a cougar." The mangled and bloody bus flashed before her eyes and she almost had to grip the table to keep from seeing stars. But she pushed the scene from her mind and pressed on. Focusing solely on the words floating in the air, not what they actually meant.

"I heard mountain lion." Cara rolled her eyes. Jackson might be hot, but he's an idiot.

"A cougar _is _a mountain lion." She heard Lydia mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Isn't it?" She added after Jackson gave her a weird look. Cara sighed, turning back to her food_. Figures, girls who actually have brains __**and **__looks have to act stupid so Mister Alpha Male doesn't feel inadequate. If Jackson wasn't so hot I'd sock him._

"Who cares? The guy's probably some homeless tweeker who's gonna die anyways." Cara's lip curled in disgust.

"He's still a person." Cara retorted, just loud enough to make Jackson's head shoot in her direction. His eyes narrowed. Almost protectively, Stiles quickly provided the information he retrieved on his phone.

"Actually I just found out who it is," He claimed, holding his phone out. "Check it out." He held his phone so everyone could see it. Cara had to lean painfully close to Stiles to see over his arm, but decided to ignored it. The phone flashed images of the sheriff and other officials along with the bus, which made her stomach churn, and a picture of the attacked man; pre-attack. Luckily looking at a video through a phone didn't have the same effect as seeing it up close and personal.

_"The Sheriff's department won't speculate on details of the incident, but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack. Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition."_

"I-I know this guy," Scott muttered after the video was over.

"You do?" Alison asked, looking at Scott regretfully.

"Yeah, when I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver." Scott and Stiles shared a look, as if they knew something the rest of the table didn't. It made Cara raise a suspicious brow but was stopped from making a comment by the strawberry blonde.

"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please." It was more of an order than a request. "Like," She droned, thinking. "Oh, where are we going tomorrow night?" She asked, turning to look at the brunette who just took a large bite of food. "You said you and Scott are hanging out tomorrow right?" Cara stifled a chuckle, seeing Alison look like a deer in headlights. She glanced at Scott.

"Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do."

"Well, I'm not sitting home again watching lacrosse videos," She shot Jackson a fierce look. "So if the four of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun." Alison took a large gulp of water.

"H-Hanging out?" Scott stuttered, looking over at the brunette. Cara leaned back in her chair to watch the scene. Alison shrugged helplessly. "Like, the four of us?" Stiles practically had to cover his mouth to stop from interrupting this train wreck. "Do you want to hang out, like, _us _and _them_?"

"Yeah, I guess." She shrugged. "Sounds fun."

"You know what else sounds fun?" Jackson cut in quickly. "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork." He stated, holding up a plastic fork from the table. Lydia swatted it out of his hands.

"How about bowling?" Lydia asked Jackson, completely disregarding the other couple who would be accompanying them. "You love to bowl."

"Yeah, with actual competition." Jackson stated. Cara watched Alison lean over to look Jackson in the eyes and knew, this wasn't going to be good.

"How do you know we aren't actual competition?" She looked at Scott. "You can bowl, right?"

"Sort of," He muttered, unsure.

Jackson pushed all the things on the table aside to lean on it with his elbows, folding his hands. He was attempting to show off his alpha male stripes and appear intimidating. Cara snorted, making Stiles nudge her arm. "Is it _sort of_? Or _yes_?"

"Yes," He said, leaning around Lydia to look Jackson straight in the face. "In fact, I'm a great bowler." Scott's voice was so full of determination and conviction, it was painstakingly obvious to Cara that he was lying. She felt Stiles spaz slightly next to her and quietly leaned over to whisper:

"He sucks doesn't he?"

"Oh yeah," He replied looking at Jackson's amused look. He only leaned back in his chair with his muscular arms folded across his chest.

"We'll see."

* * *

"You're a terrible bowler!" Stiles reminded Scott as they left their last class of the day.

"I know! I'm such an idiot." Scott shot back, slumping his shoulders.

"God, it was like watching a car wreck. I mean, first it turned into the whole group date thing. And then outta nowhere, comes that phrase."

"_Hanging out_."

"You don't hang out with hot girls, okay. It's like death. Once it's hanging out, you mind as well be her gay best friend. You and Danny can start hanging out." Stiles said as the pair continued down the hallway of the school.

"How is this happening?" Scott asked, more himself than Stiles. "I either killed a guy or I didn't,"

"I don't think Danny likes me very much."

"I ask Alison on a date and now we're _hanging out_," Scott continued, oblivious to Stiles random burble.

"Am I not attractive to gay guys?" Stiles asked Scott, though he totally ignored him. Again.

"I make first line and the captain wants to destroy me and now," The floppy haired boy looked down at his cell phone, realizing the time. "Now I'm gonna be late for work."

"Wait Scott! You didn't- am I attractive to gay guy- you didn't answer my question." He finished with a sigh. Stiles turned to walk down the hall only to come face to face with Cara. He jumped.

"Holy mother of-"

"You have good bone structure but you're clothes could use some sprucing up. The lacrosse stick hanging out of your bag is a little off putting. And your constant ogling of Lydia Martin kinda steers them away."

"What?" Stiles asked, hearing what she said, but choosing to act as if he hadn't.

"Nothing," She smirked, shaking her head. "Where you off to?"

"Home." Stiles said with a sigh, going to walk around Cara slow enough so she knew to follow him. She fell into step next to him, her legs moving faster to keep up with his long strides.

"Now, that doesn't sound very fun."

"Well, where are _you _going?" He retorted, crossing his arms.

"Detention." Stiles laughed. "Not as fun as your option I guess." She conceded, chuckling along with him.

"Let me guess," Stiles paused mockingly, holding out a finger, as if he had to think about it. "Mhmm, Harrison?"

"Woah, give the wiz-kid a prize." Cara said, giving the tall one a shove in the shoulder. Stiles laughed, gaining his balance back.

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm so clever." He shrugged, gripping the straps of his bag as they came closer the doors of the school. Cara sighed, knowing she couldn't be late to her detention.

"I _really _don't wanna go to detention." She uttered with a sigh, looking up at the buzz-head sadly. He looked down at her, seeing her green eyes reflect the fluorescent lights back to him. He never realized how big her eyes were, or how green they were. They were like the color of willow trees in the spring. He heard her cough, and his eyes snapped back to the front of him.

"Uh-um, you should-uh, get to that detention." Stiles stuttered out, the grip on his bag getting tighter. "Harrison'll freak if your late."

"Yeah, you're right." Cara took a deep breath and looked to her left, seeing a hallway that would lead her to the stairs that would ultimately take her to Harrison. "I guess this is where I get off."

"See you around." He said, waving at the blonde as she began walking backwards to her destination.

"See ya, Stilinski." With a smirk she turned to face the way she needed, leaving Stiles standing in the same spot, his eyes on her retreating back. The very words he told Scott were swimming in his mind, making him shake his head and walk out the doors that opened to the student parking lot.

_**You don't hang out with hot girls, okay. **_

_I know._

_**It's like death.**_

_I know._

_**Once it's hanging out, you mind as well be her gay best friend.**_

_I know._

_**You and Danny can start hanging out.**_

_I wonder if he finds me attractive._

* * *

"Mom?" Cara called, sulking through the front door of her mobile home. The lemon wasn't parked in the driveway, but didn't pass off the idea of someone possibly being home. The air was stale and there wasn't a single sound made to respond to her question. "You home?" She called again, dropping her bag on the cluttered dining table and walking past the kitchen to her mom and Steve's bedroom. She put her her ear to the wooden door and strained to hear through the thin board. Hearing nothing, she twisted the brass colored handle and pushed into the room. It was empty.

"Of course," Cara voiced out loud. _Leave when you should be at home resting. Jack ass. _Without thinking much more into it, she turned around and walked back out the front door. If she didn't need to be home, why would she be? A walk sounded better than sitting in that boring trailer with nothing to do but clean. That's probably what Susan had planned, leaving Cara home by herself to clean. Cara always did clean the best when she was bored. Or hungry.

She trudged out of the trailer park and onto the main road that led back into town. She didn't know where she was going, but went either way. Cara relished in the feeling of distance growing between her and the trailer park with every step she took. But, the cold and anger didn't distract her for long. Soon, her mind started to wonder. First, it took her to maple brown eyes. Shining in the overhead lights of the school hallway. His stupid buzz cut. His jokes. His laugh. His skin. His moles. Everything. She thought about how he sat out of the game on Saturday. She thought about seeing him in the hospital. She then shivered in embarrassment at the fact that he saw her inebriated mother. She thought about what his mom must be like. She remembered how close him and Scott were. And she wondered if he and Scott became best friends the way her and Boyd did.

Then, she thought about Boyd. About their argument that morning. About all the fun things they've done together. About getting drunk on his roof almost every weekend since they were freshmen. About how unfair it was that he was stuck with the life he had. If anyone deserved better, it was him. Not her. She deserves what she has. She isn't a good person. But Boyd is. Vernon Boyd IV. Who has been there for her since kindergarten and who would probably still be there for her right now if she wasn't such an idiot. It was only a matter of time before she screwed up. She always did.

That made her think of her mom. Her idiotic, neurotic, gambling, cigarette addicted mother. Who was such a screw up she could turn any decent man into a child abandoning douche bag. _And lucky her_, Steve wasn't a decent guy. Steve, who she _wished_ would abandon them. Her mom, who brought a neglective and manipulative man into an already neglected and manipulated household. She never missed her own father more than when Steve moved in.

She often daydreamed of her dad showing up one day to whisk her away from the hell she lived in. Cara knew that her dad wasn't a good person. He was actually quite a terrible person. He never paid child support, not that her mom would ever take him to court over it. He left his only child alone with that terrible woman and never thought twice about it. If he had, he wouldn't have left. Admittedly, she wasn't as bad when she was that young. But, she was no where near mother of the year. He left when Cara was six. She was at that age where no matter what your father does, it's heroic and incredible and awe-inspiring. She loved her dad to her core. He was the most amazing person she had ever known. Which is often why she blames him so much. _If he was such a hero, why didn't he rescue me? Why didn't he take me away? _Those were questions that have plagued her since she realized her dad wasn't coming back.

Cara looked up at a street light, seeing the lamp flicker on. She had been walking for three hours. With a sigh, she turned back in the direction she came and began the trek back to her broken home.

* * *

_A/N_

_Okay so, I don't know if any of you guys have read my bio recently, but some pretty intense things are happening at my house right now. And the updates will probably be a little bit slow. But, the show must.. go all over the place... or something. And I will not let you guys go too long without a chapter, mark my words._  
_This chapter was much, much shorter than all the other ones, but I figured you guys needed something. So there you have it._  
_Love to the 21 people who have favorited, and the 33 people who have followed. And thank you to those nine people who have reviewed._

_Love,_  
_blahicantthinkofaname Xoxo_

_(still with that name geese)_

_**Oh and this goes directly to a reviewer, Alice Williams:** Sorry about the whole totem pole thing, I guess I should have done more research. But thank you for pointing it out, and I totally forgive you for the nerd moment :D Thank you for the review though. _


	8. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Chapter Six: __**The Truth Shall Set You Free But A Lie Is Much More Aesthetically Pleasing**_

* * *

The loud slam of a metal locker door reverberated through the hallway as the petite blonde huffed a large sigh. Another morning without Boyd, it was starting to take a toll on her. Seeing someone everyday for practically your entire life, and suddenly they aren't there to help you when you need it, or to be there when you don't, it's an exhausting thing to go through. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up her cherade. When Cara turned away from the metal cubical, she was met with two pairs of brown of eyes. Stiles and Scott.

"God," She sighed, holding a hand to her chest. The pounding of her heart reverberated in Scott's ears.

"Uh, hey Cara." Stiles said, unsure. He picked up on her mood along with Scott. Who could hear her pounding heart and smell the depression on her from all the way down the hall and nearly jumped out of his werewolf skin when she slammed her locker closed.

"Hey Stiles," She nodded at the lanky boy then turned to the other one. "Scott." Scott smiled, trying to pull the disheartened girl from her sour mood. She only acknowledged his efforts with a small simper. "What's up?"

"We were headed to class, and thought we'd stop by." Scott said. She nodded, brushing some hair behind her ear. This morning she had woken up remarkably late and only had enough time to swap out her pajamas for jeans and a black hoodie, yank her hair into a disheveled pony tail, slip on a random pair of shoes by the front door (which turned out to be her least favorite pair, blue tennis shoes with ghastly orange stars on the side) and run to catch her bus before it left her behind. So, she was a little self concious about her look, but didn't let it show on her face.

"Yeah, you look a little worse for wear there, Cara." Stiles said, grimacing immediately at his choice of words.

"Gee, Stiles. You know exactly what to say to make a girl's liver quiver." Cara rolled her eyes and pushed in between the pair to walk in the direction of her math class. The boys quickly trailed after her.

"Sorry about that, I meant that-uh, you look like you had a rough moring. Everything alright?" It was an innocent question. But it made Cara want to cry, punch something, or take a really, _really _long nap. And although her and Stiles had been friends for about a month now, and her and Scott had grown somewhat close, she still hadn't had it in her to spill about her home life. Or about what happened with Boyd. It simply hadn't come up. Until now. She debated for a short second telling them about the ongoings inside her house. But, she pictured their faces after telling them. Their pitiful, sympathetic, puppy-dog faces. Scott's big brown eyes looking at her with remorse. Stiles telling his dad out of concern. No. That can't happen.

"Yeah," She said, feigning apethy. "Just tired."

Scott heard her heart beat jump, knowing that she was lying. But, didn't think about calling her out on it. Sure, he was worried. He had grown to like and even care for the blonde. Her gruff demeanor, bristly attitude, curly locks and all. But if she didn't feel comfortable telling the two of them, he didn't need to make a big deal out of it. She could have been on her period or something for all he knew. _Wait, __**could **__I know? _He shivered minutely.

They nodded and continued to follow her as she walked to her math class.

"Are you finally done with your detentions?" Stiles asked, itching the back of his head habitually.

"I have no idea, but I will let you know today." She replied with a soft sigh. "Hopefully, Harrison is feeling merciful."

"Yeah, _hopefully_." Scott remarked, scoffing. Cara shot him a callous look, he shrugged.

"Well, if you don't have detention I'll give you a ride home, if-if you want." Stiles offered, optimistically. He knew she walked home everyday and wouldn't mind giving the blonde a lift home if her daily imprisonments were through. She bit her lip, shrugging.

"I'm fine with walking. It's not like I'm not used to it." Cara was petrified of letting the boy see her house. Her _trailer_. And she wouldn't doubt that if a boy-let alone a boy who wasn't Boyd-gave her a ride home, her mother wouldn't shut up about it, either.

"Ah come on," He pushed, throwing a careless arm around the girl. "Let me do something for you, huh? Let me do something for me, do something for you. _Let me_, do something for you, do something for me, do something for you, yeah?" Cara shrugged off his arm lightly.

"I have no idea what you just said, but no thanks." She nodded at the two adolescent boys in farewell before walking into her math class quickly. Stiles sighed.

"She was lying wasn't she?" He inquired of his supernatural friend.

"What?"

"When she said she was tired," He reiterated. "She was lying, huh?"

"Yeah,"

* * *

Scott watched anxiously as his first period English teacher handed out the graded tests from the previous week. His feet tapped restlessly and his fingers fidgeted with his yellow pencil. He had to pass. He couldn't fail this, it was not an option right now. He had enough to worry about and having to make up a dumb test was low on his list of priorities. He felt a tap on his back right before babble was washing through his hypersensative ears.

"If Derek isn't the alpha, if he isn't the one who bit you, then who did?" Stiles asked sparatically. Scott thought for a moment. _If Derek didn't bite me, than that means theres a whole other creature out there, viscious, angry, and unmerciful. But who?_

"I don't know." He said pitifully.

"Did the alpha kill the bus driver?" Stiles asked, a direct line from his thoughts to his mouth spilling all his worries brutally.

"I don't know." Stiles sat back into his chair and sighed through his nose. Thinking of all the messed up, stupid crap that him and his friend have to go through. Which for some reason, made him think of Cara.

"Why do you think Cara lied today?"

"I don't know." Scott threw his hands up, hopefully displaying to his friend that he didn't want to talk about things that he didn't have the answers to. It made him feel useless, like even though he had all these cool new abilities, what good were they if he had no idea how to use them or control them. Or what to even use them against. He felt pathetic.

"Does Alison's dad know about the alph-"

"**I don't know!**"Scott yelled at his best friend, exapserated. He was done talking about things he didn't know. He didn't want to feel pathetic anymore. Just after he turned back around in his desk, his teacher dropped the test in his hands. _D- _it read, _Not like you! See me after class_. Scott sighed. _Shit. _

"Dude, you need to study more." Stiles remarked, smirking at his friend's awful grade compared to his _A_. Scott rolled his eyes and ignored his friend. "That was a joke." He said, as if that would change his grade. "Scott, it's one test. You're gonna make it up." Still nothing. "Do you want help studying?" Scott shook his head then.

"No, I'm studying with Alison after school today."

"That's my boy." Stiles smirked.

"We're _just _studying." Scott reassured, knowing where his friend was going with this.

"Uh, no you're not."

"No I'm not?" Scott mumbled.

"Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you." Stiles shot, leaning over his desk to talk directly into the werewolf's ear. As if the hypersensetive one can't hear clear as day already. _Unbelievable. _"If you go to her house today, and squander that collosale opportunity, I sw-I sware to God, I'll have you de-balled."

"Okay, okay." Scott sighed, looking back at his frantic friend. "Just stop with the questions, man."

"Done." Stiles complied. "No more questions. No more talk about the alpha, or Derek. Especially Derek. Who still scares me."

"And I have another condition." Scott said, turning to look at his buzz head friend.

"Shoot." Stiles said, folding his hands in a mocking manner.

"_You _make sure you give Cara that ride home today. You hear me? Because if _you _squander that collosale opportunity, I'll have _you _de-balled."

"Stop stealing my threats."

"Stiles,"

"Alright, alright." He waved Scott off. "I'll do it. I'll give her a ride home. Just shut up all ready, jeesh."

* * *

_I guess there really is no rest for the wicked. _Cara thought to herself as she walked to her locker. She had been trying to cop a nap during her whole math class, but her teacher just wouldn't have it. He called on her everytime no one raised their hands, and whenever her head was down for more than a few minutes the teacher reprimanded her. All she wanted was some sleep. She prayed that she could find solitude in her english class. She opened her locker with ease and began exchanging her supplies.

A hand slammed into her locker, making her jump out of her skin and drop the pencil in her hand. A man saught stead against Cara's locker, she looked up at him. He had a line of sweat on his brow and his eyes were drooping with bags. It looked like he had been wearing the same clothes for days and his hair was a mess. His skin tone was sallow and he couldn't even keep his hands steady. _Crack-head_, were the first words that popped into Cara's head. She had seen enough in her trailer park to recognize one. Her eyebrows raised.

"Um, can I help you?"

"Scott McCall." He rasped. "Where is he?" Cara closed her locker and defensively crossed her arms over her English text book. The fallen pencil totally forgotten.

"And who the hell are you?"

"A friend." He said, holding his injured arm in a shaky hand.

"_Right_. And why should I tell you where he is?" She asked, raising one eyebrow in questioning.

"Because I need him." Derek let out a deep breath at the exhaustion of having to stay standing in the middle of this hallway, to talk to this smart ass girl. He smells Scott's scent on her, he knows she has seen him. He knows she knows where he is. "Now, where can I find Scott McCall?"

"Hm, don't believe I know a Scott McCall." Cara said, pronouncing every syllable of the werewolf's name, as if to test it out, taste it on her tongue. "Can't help you, sorry." She moved to walk around the unstable man when he grabbed her fore arm roughly.

"I need to find him, _now_." She renched her arm from his hand and the sullen man had just enough time to retracted his claws before the blonde noticed them.

"Well, good luck finding him." She smirked at him. A man who was unstable, two times her size, had an undetermined mental state, and was on a man hunt for her friend. _I'm probably an idiot, _she thought carelessly to herself."Now, have a nice day. And do yourself a favor," Her emerald eyes were glued to his. "Lay off the cocaine. It doesn't do well for your complexion."

* * *

"Mister Harrison, _please_."

"Look, Cara, I don't think that if I let up now you'll learn your lesson."

"I have learned my lesson! I promise to never call you out when you screw up ever again. Just please, no more detentions!"

"That! Right there! That's what I'm talking about." Harrison sighed, holding the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. His glasses felt like they were squeezing his cranium. "I'm tired of being disrespected, and you, Cara, are my number one culprit. I'm tired of it."

"_Please_, Harrison. Next time I mess up you can give me detentions for the whole year. Take away Winter Formal, lacrosse games, prom, whatever! But I'm done with detentions." The blonde yanked an irritating piece of hair behind her ear and shifted her weight from her right hip to her left. Standing up to The Man is the only way to stop The Man.

"Miss Rodgers, I can't just go back on my word."

"You said a long time. Trust me, it's been a long time. I'm starting to lose my mind here, H."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry." Cara pursed her lips, taking a deep, much needed, breath in through her nose and releasing it out of her mouth. "Look, I promise to try my best to abide by your rules and not disrespect you in class. You have my word." It was a few agonizing seconds before Harrison replied. His jaw was set and his eyebrows sat low on his forehead.

"Fine."

"Really?" Something close to a smile, as close as she can get when in the presense of Harrison, stretched across her pale face.

"Yes." He sighed, taking his glasses off to rub his tired and weary eyes. "Just keep your promise. I will have no mercy next time." _As if you had any to begin with_, Cara thought. But she figured it would be best not to voice that out loud.

"I will, cross my heart."

"Oh, give me a break." Harrison mumbled, waving his hand to shoo Cara away from his desk and out the door. The first day this year that Cara could go home when school actually let out and Boyd wasn't even around to see it. That made Cara's mood drop from relieved and happy to morose and lonely.

For a split second, Cara thought about finding Stiles. But, remembered that little issue about her house, and her mom, and thought better of it. She strode down the hallway, holding the strap of her bookbag that dangled off her right shoulder as if it was a life jacket that would bring her bobbing to the surface of these dangerously sullen waters. This day went from awful, to bizare, to acceptable, to terrific, right back to awful again. Cara couldn't help but sigh as she felt the weight of her world in her back pack.

"Cara!" And just when she thought that things couldn't possibly get any worse. There's Stiles now, running towards her from the end of the hallway. His arms flailing and his legs spastically flying in awkard directions. Running just the way that Stiles would run, which almost makes it endearing. "Cara, hey!" He stopped in front of her, panting and gasping slightly, smiling too wide to be so out of breath.

"Hey Stiles," She uttered, as if those particular words would ensue a tragic death of some kind. But they would only bring the tragic downfall of Cara's resolve.

"So, what's the verdict?" He asked expectantly. Cara shrugged, playing dumb.

"What do you mean?"

"Shut up, you know. Your detentions." Stiles said, giving Cara a small shove in the shoulder. "Are they over? Are you done?" A terribly faux smile graced Cara's heart shaped face as she bobbed her head.

"Yup." She said, popping the 'p' between her lips.

"That's great! You're finally free from Harrison's wrath. How does it feel?" Stiles spoke a mile a minute, his mouth permanently etched into a stunning smile, just for Cara. This thought did not escape her.

"Um, great? I guess. I don't know. Better than yesterday." She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, feeling self-conscious standing in front of this tall lanky boy who, she thought, shouldn't be inducing these nerves.

"Well, I guess that means that you're free to accept my ride home then." He said, wrapping his slender arm around Cara's shoulders to pull her in the direction of his jeep. He wasn't taking no for an answer. Cara tried to shrug him off, but he was relentless.

"Stiles. Stiles, stop. Let me go. Stiles!" She wiggled but he wouldn't budge and she watched helplessly as he took her out of the school and into the parking lot and all the way to his jeep. "Hmm," She mused, "Didn't think it'd be this color in the daylight."

"Hush up and get in the jeep."

"I'm not telling you where I live."

"Don't be so dramatic." Stiles said, opening the door for Cara to climb into the passenger seat. He waved his hand in front of him and bowed to her, making Cara smile while his head was down.

"Practice what you preach." She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest once again.

"I will stand here all day, I'm not taking no for an answer here." Cara wasn't planning on relenting. She really wasn't. But, those eyes and those moles and that _smile_. She couldn't not say yes. So, with a fake pout, she climbed into his jeep and let him shut the door behind her. He climbed in after and started the engine, pulling out of the space and into the direction of the exit.

When a man walked in front of the jeep, holding his hand out to stop it, Cara figured that this day could not get any worse. Oh, how wrong she is.

"Oh my god," Stiles exclaimed, braking the jeep hard. It julted Cara forward and if she hadn't buckled up, her precious face would be in Stiles' precious dashboard. There were honks from the angry drivers behind them, but Stiles and Cara were looking at the man in front of them. Cara vaguely recognized him as the crack head she so rudely told off this morning. And watched as he collapsed on the ground. "You gotta be kidding me, this guy is everywhere." Cara looked at Stiles.

"You know this guy?" She asked, gesturing to the subdued crack head.

"_You _know this guy?" Stiles retorted. But before they could delve into that particular dream pool, Scott came running up to the jeep.

"What the hell?" Stiles jumped out of the jeep to follow Scott to the man on the ground. Cara's hand ghosted over the door handle a couple of times before she finally yanked it open to join the threesome in front of the jeep.

"I can't," Derek said. "It was a different kind of bullet."

"Wh- A silver bullet?" Stiles asked excitedly, completely ignoring the fact that Cara was standing right there. Everybody was. But she didn't mind, she liked being in the loop for once.

"No you idiot." Derek replied, shooting Cara a glance before assuming that she was, in fact, in the loop.

"Wait, wait," Scott said, also focused on the near death Derek rather than the innocent bystander listening to their gibberish. "That's what she meant when she said you have forty eight hours."

"What? Wh-Who said forty eight hours?" Derek rasped.

"Who shot you?" Scott asked back.

"Okay, _what the hell _are you guys talking about?" Cara yelled. "He was _shot_? Shouldn't he be at the hospital?" Stiles and Scott's faces bolted up to look at Cara. Her face was a mix of desperation and confusion. They were talking about a man being shot, in the middle of a school parking lot. Where was everyone's sanity? But, Derek groaning grabbed their attention back again. His eyes flashed a bright, vibrant blue before going back to normal again.

"What are you doing?" Scott demanded, looking around them to see if anyone saw. "Stop that!"

"I'm trying to tell you, I cant!" Derek growled, clenching his teeth to try and stop from doing it once more. Scott grabbed his shoulder and looked into his bloodshot eyes.

"_Derek, get up_." Derek's eyes flashed blue again and Cara's last shred of sanity was lost. Scott got up and moved around to grip Derek under his arms. "Help me put him in your car." He directed at Stiles. Stiles shot Cara an apologetic look and ran to help Scott. Cara stood there a moment, ready to ring Stiles' head. She felt confused, angry, betrayed. What the _hell _was going on? She followed behind Stiles. Oh, she was getting her ride home. Whether he wanted to give it now or not. He opened the door to push the driver seat forward so Cara could climb into the back. She plopped down, giving Derek a disturbed look. "Get him outta here." Scott told Stiles. Stiles glanced at Cara in the rear view mirror regretfully.

"I hate you for this, so much." He said between clenched teeth. He put the jeep in the proper gear and peeled off the pavement, making Cara, once again, be thankful she was wearing her seat belt. "Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_."

"Okay, what the hell is going on?" Cara asked, leaning in between the passenger and the driver seat. Stiles only clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Stiles! Answer me."

"What do you want me to say, huh? That I haven't exactly told you the whole truth?" Stiles slammed on his brakes at a stop sign, making Derek's arm hit painfully against his seat belt. But besides his groan of pain, he stayed quiet. Stiles turned around to look at Cara dead on. "You haven't been the most truthful with me either Cara."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cara fingers ran through her hair on instinct, which only pulled pieces of her golden locks from her ponytail. But that was something she didn't have time to worry about. Stiles was in front of her, unraveling her carefully threaded life.

"I know there's something more going on with you, okay? Something that you're not telling me and Scott. So, if you want me to be honest with _you_, you have to be honest with _me_."

* * *

_A/N_

_I am so sorry. There is really no excuse for the fact that I haven't been updated. I have had plenty of opportunities to get on my laptop and write, but I just haven't had the inspiration. But, alas, I am here. And I have brought you an update. An update, that has probably ruined your day. So sorry about it. (not really)_

_Breaking news, Cara and Stiles ship name shall, now and forever more, be **Stara.** Live it, love it, ship it. Okay, so, hashtag "#stara" on tumblr and twitter with your thoughts about the pair. My tumblr is **stilesofassgard** and my twitter is **stilesofassgard. **So check me out. I will put up sneak peeks, pictures, thoughts, ideas, and basically whatever else to do with this story on mostly my tumblr, so definitely check me out there._

_**SNEAK PEEK TO THE NEXT CHAPTER** ON MY TUMBLR. **STILESOFASSGARD**. GO FIND IT. READ IT. TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS. BIG THINGS HAPPENING NEXT CHAPTER, SHOULD BE OUT THIS SATURDAY, WATCH FOR IT. _

_And big news, I have made a video. Yes, that's right, a video. Mostly it's just me being an idiot, but I do talk about my stories and some things I have planned for the future. So, if you would like to check that out, go to my bio, the link is there. Trust me, my idiocy is hella entertaining._

_Thank you to all my readers. And a special thank you to my 30 favorites and my 49 follows. It means the world, honestly. And also thanks to my 11 reviewers. You guys are amazing._

_-blahicantthinkofaname xoxo_

_(yup, i think that name will stick for a while)_


	9. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Chapter Six: **Oozing, Slimy, Crimson Blood**_

* * *

The last time Cara was in this jeep, she never would have thought she would end up here, in this moment. That this boy, who she never could have found herself even being friends with, would be questioning her like this. Making her decide between giving the truth and knowing the truth. Giving her an ultimatum. Especially after he kept something so big, so bizarre, so confusing, from her. She doesn't even know what this is about. Drugs? A gang? She didn't know. But, she wasn't about to let him turn this around on her. Sure, she kept things from Stiles, but they weren't things like _this_. No, she wasn't going to let him off easy.

_Fuck. That._

"Okay, sure, I don't exactly tell you and Scott every single thing that's going on in my fucked up life. And yeah, I've lied to you. But that night in the rain, you didn't ask. You didn't ask about why I was there or why I wasn't going anywhere. And I thought that was our silent agreement, that you would let me have that. That you wouldn't ask. And I did the same for you. But right now, there's a man with a bullet inside of him sitting in your passenger seat and I would like to know what the hell is going on!" She nearly screeched. Adrenaline pushed through her veins, surging to thrum in her ear drums. Stiles' mouth was parted slightly, he wasn't expecting that. Heat started building in his ears and cheeks and he wished he wouldn't have said anything. At least he wished he wouldn't have said it the way he did.

Derek pretended he wasn't in the passenger seat of this car, that he wasn't hearing this right now. That he hadn't heard what she said. For the first time since he was shot, he focused on the pain rather than what was going on around him.

"I-I," Stiles stuttered. It was silent for a moment. All that was heard was Cara's and Derek's heavy breathing. Hers in anger, his in pain. Until there was a honk from behind them, making Stiles hurry to step on the gas, causing Cara to jolt back slightly. But her grip on the seats in front of her made it nearly impossible to even jostle her a little bit. "I'm sorry."

"No, okay. You had no right to say any of that. I don't tell you what's going on with me because I don't want to. I don't want you and Scott to feel sorry for me. I don't want you guys to pity me. I can take care of myself fine." Heat started building up on the back of Cara's neck from the excitement. She leaned back to strip off her sweatshirt, revealing a grey tank top. And she figured, _while I'm back here might as well fix my goddamn hair too. _She pulled the tie from her hair to readjust the placement of her wildly curly locks so they weren't resting against her hot neck.

"I know you can take care of yourself, trust me, I know." He shook his head, rubbing a hand up the side of his face. "I-I just, I don't know. Thought that you needed help. Or-god-I don't know. I just hatedseeing you so upset all the time. And I hate asking you what's wrong and hearing you lie right to my face. L-Like I'm good enough to know what's going on in the life of _Cara Rodgers_."

"Oh, give me a break, Stiles." Cara scoffed, leaning more over the console to argue with Stiles. "You think I'm not hurt that you haven't told me about what's going on right now? That you are dragging me to wherever we're going and you aren't telling me anything. You can't just make me tag along and then not tell me what's going on." Her eyes were locked on the side of his face, watching his jaw clench and un-clench. _Clenched. Un-clenched. Clenched. Un-clenched. Clenched. Un-clenched. _And then:

"Scott's a werewolf." He blurted. Cara blinked. And blinked again. And again. _A werewolf? Like... Like Lon Chaney Jr? Like freaking Larry Talbot. Is he shitting me? _She took a few deep breaths. Counted to ten. So many rated R words were shooting around her mind, she was afraid they would burst out of her ears. All she wanted was the truth.

"Stop the car."

"Whoa, whoa. What, why?" Stiles burbled, looking back at Cara in panic. Afraid something was wrong.

"If you're gonna joke around when there is a man sitting in your passenger seat, who was shot, than I don't want to be in this car with you." Stiles sighed, pulling the jeep over to rest on the shoulder of the road. Cara sat up, hoodie in hand, ready to run when Stiles moved his seat.

"I'm not joking, Cara." He said, resting both his hands on the steering wheel, balled up in fists. "Okay? I know it's hard to believe and I know you're probably going to want nothing to do with me. But just listen to me for a second. Scott's a werewolf and Derek's a werewolf and-"

"Who's Derek?" The man in the passenger seat raised his uninjured hand, silently wincing.

"That would be me, bleeding out. Shot. _Dying_. No big deal, take your time. Sort this out." Cara's frantic eyes shot to Stiles, lightly pushing his seat to convey how badly she wanted out of this suddenly confining jeep.

"B-Bleeding out? As in you're bleeding?" She asked, a scared undertone sneaking into her speech. "Like, you're bleeding right now?" Cara's hands began to shake, but she didn't realize it. The only thing on her mind was: blood, blood, blood, _blood_.

"Yes, that's the exact definition of bleeding out." Derek deadpanned, feeling the look of disdain on Stiles face. Cara didn't even notice his sarcasm. _Blood. Oozing. Blood. Slimy. Blood. Crimson. Blood. _

"Hey, okay, alright. Let's just take it down a few notches, take a few deep breaths." Stiles said, slowly stepping on the gas pedal while reaching into his pocket for his phone. "I'm gonna call Scott. See if he found your magic bullet yet." Cara's shaking hands moved to cradle her stomach. She could smell the coppery, rusty smell and feel the sliminess all over her hands and she could picture what a bullet wound looks like on real human skin, up close and personal. And thought about how the man sitting in front of her has an open wound, blood probably running down his arm, red and thick. All of a sudden, she started to feel really queasy.

"Sti-"

"Hang on, I'm gonna text him." Stiles declared after Scott didn't answer his phone the first few times he tried. Stiles knew exactly what Scott was doing. After all, he was the one who put him up to it. It irked Stiles beyond belief that Scott was probably groping a boob at this very moment while he was stuck here ruining his and Cara's friendship and dealing with a more sarcastic than usual Derek. He looked down at his phone, using one hand to steer. _**Need more time**_. Stiles sighed, throwing his phone to the side.

"Stiles." Cara said, holding her rumbling tummy with one hand and cradling her mouth with the other.

"Yeah?" He asked, his irritation bleeding out.

"I need to get out of the car."

"Look Cara, I know you don't believe me right now but I just need some time to-"

"No, seriously I think I'm gonna be sick." Stiles looked back at Cara, his eyes wide. It only took him a second to take in her sallow face, her sweaty brow, and her trembling hands. His foot was on the break the second he could get it there. He scrambled out to lift his seat up, taking Cara's hand to help her out of the backseat. She bounded to the curb, keeled over, and felt her gut retch. _Well, after Stiles sees me puke I don't think I'll be embarrassed about him seeing my trailer, at least. _The contents of her lunch: a turkey and cheese sandwich, apple sauce, and a pint of strawberry milk, was dumped from her mouth in a smelly, detest cocktail of pink and brown chunks. Both Stiles and Derek looked away from her, feeling suddenly nauseous at the sight. After all the contents of her stomach were emptied onto the grass patch besides the curb, Cara stood back up. Straight and tall. She might have thrown away all the bile in her stomach, but she didn't throw away her dignity. With her head held high, she walked back over to the jeep, holding a hand out to feel the cold, blue metal on her clammy palm.

"Feeling better now?" Derek snarled, feeling the pain in his arm intensify, taking a deep inhale.

"Hey, will you lay off." Stiles held his arm out towards Derek, as if to deflect the negative vibes he was shooting at Cara.

"Yeah, no, I'm great. Not slowly bleeding to death or anything."

"Just, please don't bleed out on my seats, okay. We're right around the block from the reserve. We'll be to your house in no time."

"What? No, you can't take me there." Derek rasped, thinking about each breath as he takes it.

"I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles asked, incredulously. Derek shook his head.

"Not when I can't protect myself." Stiles rolled his eyes and huffed, stepping closer to the jeep so he could talk out of ear shot of Cara. Although, yelling in frustration didn't make it hard for her to listen in.

"What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you really dying?"

"Not yet. I have a last resort."

"What do you mean? What last resort?" Stiles demanded, flailing his arms. Derek lifted his shirt sleeve to reveal a bullet hole on his forearm. Pus and blood oozed from the open wound, trailing down his arm and off his hand onto his lap and the floor of the jeep.

"Oh, my, god. What is that?" Stiles heaved, shielding his eyes from the grotesque sight. "Oh, is that contagious?"

"Get in, both of you." Derek rasped, his eyes flashing blue again. Stiles looked back at Cara, and then back at Derek's arm. Sighing and ignoring the halfhearted protests, Stiles led Cara to the backseat of the jeep and hopped in himself. "Start the car, now."

"Okay, wait, I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

"Start the car," Derek started, taking a breath. "Or I'm gonna rip your throat out. With my teeth."

"Oh, god." Cara muttered as Stiles reluctantly looked back to the road in front of him. Between the grogginess from throwing up, the confusion from everything Stiles said _before _throwing up, and the heat in the jeep, Cara was a hot mess. Emphasis on hot. It was boiling, at least to Cara, it was. Stiles started the jeep. "St-Stiles, please put the windows down or something." She breathed. Stiles looked behind him at Cara, and for the second time, noticed how terribly sick she truly was.

"Cara are you feeling alright?" He asked, but Cara didn't hear him. Darkness was swallowing up her eyesight and before she completely passed out, her head fell against the glass of the window on her left.

* * *

_"Cara! Stop running in the house!" Susan yelled, swatting her bleached blonde bangs from her forehead while also trying to balance the land line between her shoulder and her cheek. The pots on the stove steamed and whistled over the red hot burners. Cara and a cousin she rarely ever hears from anymore ran around the living room fighting over who got to be Tinkerbell in their game of Peter Pan: how the movie _should _have gone. It was a typical Sunday in the Locke/Rodgers household. "Yeah mom, I know I know. Just hurry up, dinner's gonna be done by the time you get here."_

_"_It's not my fault traffic is a bitch, Suse. There's a detour or something, I feel like I'm in rush hour. How's the chicken doing?"

_"Alright, I think. I don't know what golden brown is supposed to look like on a chicken. How dark should it be? Cause if what I'm thinking of is right, the chicken's done."_

_"_Well, when did you put it in?" _Loise asked her daughter, making Susan scrunch her eyebrows and peer up at the clock._

_"About 45 minutes ago, I think, maybe"_

_"_The chicken's definitely not done," _A sigh was heard through the receiver. "_Just wait 'till I get there."

_"Whatever mom."_

_"_Don't you whatever me ,Susan Marie. You're not too old to be smacked by your mother_." Susan stifled her laugh, stirring a pot that contained milk, half and half, chicken stock, potato chunks, and other herbs and spices, clueless._

_"Sorry mother."_

_"_I'm hanging up now."

_"Love you,"_

_"_Oh shut up_," The line went dead and Susan reached over to put the phone back on the hook on the wall. Thundering feet rumbling through the house were heard, making the cups and plates on the counter rattle._

_"Cara I swear to god! Stop that running! I'm not gonna tell you again!" She yelled, slamming her hand on the counter. _**Wow**, I need a smoke. _The feet stopped for only a minute before the girls couldn't stay put any longer. They ran from room to room, chasing each other all throughout the house. "For heavens sake!"_

_"Suse, stop yelling at the poor kids." Zach told her, walking in from having a smoke break outside. "They're just having fun." She looked over at Zach from the stove and sighed, rubbing her forehead with the back of the hand that was holding her lucky wooden spoon. _

_"I know, I know. But the constant running is making **me **tired." Zach smiled, walking over to wrap his arms around his disheveled girlfriend, who might as well be his wife. He just never popped the question. Didn't think he had to. A wedding wouldn't make them a family, Cara already did that for them. _

_"They're kids, babe."_

_"I know that, I just wish I could ship them outside like my mom used to do to me."_

_"We agreed that we weren't gonna be like our parents." He reminded her, gently. The day Susan found out she was pregnant, that she was going to be a mother, she vowed to never be like her own mom. Zach agreed to do the same for hus parents. Both of them didn't have really have "parents". Susan has never met her father, but is told by her mom that he was a disgusting excuse of a man. Always drunk, high, and addicted to gambling. As far as Loise is concerned, Susan didn't need him in her life. But her mom on the other hand, always seemed to be there. Whether it was to tell her she was doing something wrong, tell her she was a screw up, or to just stand over her shoulder to criticize every decision she made. And if she wasn't there, she was out scouring the town to find a new husband and father. Bringing home men at all hours of the night, and day. Admittedly, she never put up with their bullshit, and wasn't afraid to kick them to the curb if they made a wrong move, that didn't stop Loise from making Susan meet every single man that passed the threshold._

_Zach, on the other hand, had both of his parents in his life. Both, lousy, abusive, and drug addicted parents. His mom and dad cared more about crack cocaine than him, it had always been that way. He can remember one day when he was eight, his parents wouldn't let him come home because their dealer didn't like kids. Zach moved out of his house when he was 15. Was homeless for a few months. Begging at the front desk of any establishment that would let this matted and dirty boy through the door to give him a job. When he finally got a job mowing lawns at a law firm (the owner himself was from an abusive background, and wished someone would have been there for him while he was struggling), and was able to get his GED and rent a crappy apartment. That's when he met Susan. _

_They met while she was taking two paper bags full of groceries up to the apartment that her and her mother shared. He saw her grappling to hold them and unlock the door at the same time, and couldn't resist helping a damsel in distress. They talked, clicked, and the rest, they say, was history. _

_"That's exactly why I haven't made them go outside. Besides, they haven't caught that guy yet."_

_"You are such a worry-wort."_

_"I won't have my kid, or Ashley, snatched up by some crazy pervert and if that makes me a worry-wort then so be it." Zach smiled at Susan, and leaned in to kiss her. She smiled, turning back to the stove. "Speaking of parents, my mom will be here soo-" A loud obnoxious knocking was heard from the kitchen, inducing a sigh from Susan. _

_"Speak of the devil."_

_"Hello? Suse? Zach?" Zach and Susan shared a knowing look before letting out matching sighs. "Where are the fucking parents in this god forsaken house?" _

_"In here mom!" _

_"Oh, thank god. You know, I had to take Smith all the way here? Can't take Mills to Jefferson, closed off. Stupid effing city council passed that road repair bullshit. If my Ford can make it over those bumps then their prissy asses can take their goddamn Mazda Miata's over them."_

_"Nice to see you too, mom." Loise waved her hand as she made her way into the kitchen, dropping her coat and tote bag on a dining chair as she went. _

_"Yeah, yeah. Now let me see this chicken." Susan moved out from in front of the stove to let her mother take a peek into the oven. _

_"This is a terrible idea," Zach sang into Susan's ear, pursing his lips. In the door for 30 seconds and Loise already gave him a headache. Susan batted Zach's abdomen lightly, giving him a perilous look. _

_"So, how's it look mom?" Susan asked, craving a compliment of some kind from her cold mother. She craves them like a heroine addict craves heroine, has since she was a little girl. Her lip was between her teeth in anticipation and she scratched her palm in apprehension. _

_"Eh, could use a little more seasoning on the top and some more juice in pan. Might come out a little dry, if you ask me." Loise said callously with a shrug. Susan sighed out of her nose, feeling Zach's comforting hand rub her shoulder. Loise looked up at her daughter, noticing the look on her face. "But, it's okay."_

_"Thanks mom," Susan replied graciously around a breath. Before anyone could say anything else, Cara and Ashley came running animatedly into the kitchen. _

_"But Tink! I love you, not Wendy! Come back!" Ashley yelled, reaching a stiff hand towards the blonde._

_"No, Peter, if you couldn't notice how much cooler and prettier I am than Wendy than you don't deserve to be my friend! Now leave me!" Cara proclaimed, throwing a dramatic hand across her forehead. _

_"Will you two crazy girls stop talking that gibberish and come give your grandma a hug." Loise said over the carefully scripted rendition of Peter Pan._

_"Grandma!" Both girls chimed, forgetting about their game to throw their tiny arms around their grandma's neck. _

_"I missed you!" Ashley said, giggling. Loise laughed and patted her head. _

_"I missed you too, Ash." She said, smiling at the small red head girl. Most of the girls on that side of the family have red hair. Susan was shunned for a few months when she decided to bleach it. A red head's hair is never the same after it's bleached. And that red hair was the pride of the family. "And Cara of course."_

_"Did you bring us what you promised?" Cara asked, not one for foolish babble. _

_"Hmm, did I bring what I promised?" She muttered, letting go of both girls to walk over to her tote bag. "Did I, did I, did I. Hmm." She dug through it for a moment before pulling out two miniature plush dogs. One was dull white and had course hair sticking out in all different directions, while the other was a rich auburn color, with silky fur swooping down to its feet. The white one was handed to Cara, the auburn one to Ashley. "There you go girls."_

_"But these aren't real, grandma!" Cara said, looking up at her graying grandmother with disdain. "You promised they were gonna be real!" Susan looked back from where her and Zach were standing by the stove._

_"You said you were going to get them _dogs_, **Mom**?" Susan asked in disbelief. Zach reached over to rub her arm._

_"Oh, shut up Suse. I wasn't really gonna." Loise reasured, waving her hand carelessly. Susan's eyes widened, running the thin digits of her left hand through her course blonde hair. _

_"Mom!" _

_"Oh my gosh!"_

_"What?"_

_"Oh my god, are you kidding me?"_

_"Mom what are you-"_

_"Goddammit."_

* * *

"Goddammit." Stiles said, throwing his phone on the floor again. Cara tried to shake off the dream. Shake off the feeling of nostalgia and longing. Longing to have that life again. Longing to have her _dad _again. Longing for a time when her mom hadn't turned into grandma Loise. Because those were pipe dreams that she would never have. Cara looked around. At first, she was confused as to why she was sitting in the backseat of a mysterious car. But she sat up, and took in the two people sitting in front of her. And sighed in relief. It was dark outside and it wasn't as hot as when she fell asleep and it smelt like death. She coughed, making Stiles look back at her.

"Cara! Hey, you're awake. Have a nice nap?"

"Hmm. What the hell is that smell?"

"Ha, um, that would be the decaying werewolf in my passenger seat." Cara rubbed her eyes, wishing to dispel what Stiles just said from entering her ears. _He's still on that?_

"Where are we?" She asked then, looking around at the trees and grass around them. No landmarks that would tell her where they are, idling on the side of the road.

"Sitting on the shoulder of Carlton. Waiting for Scott to stop being such an idiot." Just as he said that, his phone lit up from the floor, vibrating and blaring some stupid ringtone that made Cara's foggy head hurt.

"Scott! Scott, Scott, Scott. Thank you for finally dragging your sorry ass away from your beautiful girlfriend to _freaking call me_!" Stiles said, sitting up straighter at attention while holding his phone to his left ear.

"_I know, I know. I'm sorry. How's Derek_?" Cara could hear Scott ask.

"Awful. What am I supposed to do with him?" Stiles asked right back, not ready to take any of Scott's shit. Derek felt like a kid in a custody disagreement, being carted from parent to parent. Having no say in what happens to him.

"_Take him somewhere. Anywhere_." Scott sounded anxious, scared. Stiles sighed.

"And by the way, he's starting to smell." Cara could drink to that.

"_L-Like what_?"

"Like death!" Cara called into the phone behind Stiles ear. Stiles had to use all his willpower not to shiver after feeling her hot breath on his red earlobe.

"_W-Who was that? Was that Cara_?" Scott hissed.

"Yeah?" Stiles replied unsure, shrugging. Cara leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes.

"_She's still with you?! What the hell, why didn't you take her home_?" Scott sounded even more anxious.

"She got sick and passed out! I'm not a telepath, Scott." The sound of a deep sigh crackled through the phone.

"_Oh my- okay okay, just_," He paused. "_Take Derek to the animal clinic_."

"What about your boss?"

"_He's gone by now; there's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster_." Exhaling a deep breath of warm air, Stiles passed his phone off to Derek.

"You're not gonna believe where he's telling me to take you." Derek took the phone and felt the cool plastic screen against his hot cheek.

"Did you find it?" Derek inquired, feeling his breath scratch against his throat as he took each demanding breath.

"_How am I supposed to find one bullet_?" Scott said, beseeching. "_They have a million. This house is like the freaking Wal-Mart of guns_."

"Look, if you don't find it then I'm dead, alright?"

_"Starting to think that wouldn't be such a bad thing_." Scott proclaimed, making Cara chuckled. Derek wasn't exactly the cuddly teddy bear type. And after the attitude he's given her today, she wouldn't mind watching him sweat this out.

"Then think about this," Derek started, breathing deeply. "The alpha called you out against your will. And he's gonna do it again. Next time, you either kill with him, or you get killed. So if you wanna stay alive then you need me." Cara shut her eyes tightly, pretending she didn't hear what she just heard. _What the hell does he mean by alpha? Why does he want Scott to kill? Why will he kill Scott if he doesn't kill with him? What does any of this mean? And more importantly, why the hell am I buying into it?_ "Find the bullet." Derek tapped the end button with a shaky hand and handed it carelessly back to Stiles.

"So, what are we-"

"Drive."

"Okay."

* * *

"Can I please just stay in the car?" Cara asked Stiles as he reached behind a big green dumpster, sensing that Derek was going to let his open wound out to breath, and she wanted to be as far away as possible. "Please?"

"Cara, I'm not leaving you out here by yourself. Just come on, I'll take you home as soon as Derek is all sorted out." He replied after pulling out a small, metal, forest green box.

"By sorted out do you mean not dying?" Stiles gave Derek a look before opening the box to retrieve a single key.

"So, are you guys seriously gonna keep to this whole werewolf story?" Cara inquired, watching Stiles unlock a large sliding door in the far back of the building. "Because I might have been distracted by puking and passing out earlier but now you guys are just freaking me out." Derek looked at the blonde from the wall he was gaining support from and snarled.

"Look, I know it's hard to swallow and everything but I don't have time to listen to you wine. There is a wolfsbane bullet _lodged_ in my forearm and if Scott isn't here soon with that bullet you and your spastic BFF are going to be dragging a dead werewolf out to the reserve to bury. So please, _shut up._" Derek sucked in a ragged breath, clutching his arm painfully.

"Alright, alright, shut it, both of you." Stiles intervened, looking regretfully at Cara."Let's just get inside and worry about everything else when this is over." Stiles bent down to unlock the padlock holding the door closed and lifted it up. There was a small room behind it that had various different types of animal foods and cages, and there was another door than presumably led to the actual clinic. Derek barreled in and collapsed against the far wall, on top of a pile of sacks of animal food, breathing raggedly. Cara followed behind unsure, holding her arms across her chest. "Does Nordic Blue Monkshood mean anything to you?" Stiles directed at Derek, reading off his phone.

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane." Derek said, breathing between each syllable. "He has to bring me the bullet."

"Why?"

"Cause I'm gonna die without it." Derek and Stiles shared a look for a moment before Stiles turned quickly to open the door into the clinic. Stiles guided Derek through the halls and past the waiting room and into the operating room, Cara following behind, much less urgent.

"Kay, okay." Stiles said, turning the overhead lights on. Derek already had his shirt off(showing off his impressive torso), and had his injured arm up on the cold, metal table.

"You know that really doesn't look like anything some Echinacea and a good night sleep couldn't fix." Stiles stammered. Cara turned from her inspecting of the line of animal x-rays hanging on the light panel.

"Oh- holy shit." Cara exclaimed, turning away from the vision of blood and pus oozing from an inch wide hole that was surrounded by thick, black veins drawing a spurs diagram of lines all along his arm.

"You don't like blood?" Derek asked her, clenching and un-clenching his hand to every thrum of pain.

"Nope." She said, feeling a warm coppery smell invade her nostrils. _Not again._

"Well then you're really not gonna like this." Derek said, turning to look through the drawers located all around the room. "When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me."

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles asked, watching the back of Cara's head to make sure she doesn't turn around.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time," Derek grunted. "Last resort."

"Which is?" Derek looked back at Stiles, just as Cara turned back around to see what Derek was doing, he held up an electric bone saw.

"You're gonna cut off my arm."

Cara passed out. Again.

* * *

_A/N_

_Oops, I put up the chapter a day early. My bad. And I figured that since the last few chapters have been so short I'd give you guys a break and actually write something I'm proud of. _  
_School started for me about three weeks ago and it's been hitting me pretty hard. I'm in a thing called NTHS, which gives me opportunities to find colleges right for me(and requires monthly meetings) and I'm in my school's French Club. Very exciting. But, unfortunately, that means that I'm not at home as much as I used to be. Mark my words, though, I will not let this story fade away. I have worked far too hard to do that. I will do my absolute best to keep the the schedule I have now (which is updating every Saturday, in case you didn't know). _  
_Make sure you go to my tumblr (**stilesofassgard**) to check out the sneak peek for the next chapter. That should be up very, very soon. Plus, if I'm behind on an update, you can find out first there. Or you can contact me through tumblr to get an immediate response to a question or concern, versus waiting for me to go on here and manually look at my PM's, which will take longer. _  
_Thank you to everyone who has read up to this point. Thank you to the 34 favorite-ers and the 64 followers. Thank you to the 13 people who have reviewed. I appreciate everything so much._

_-blahicantthinkofaname xoxo_


	10. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Chapter Eight: **Sometimes Ice Cream Doesn't Make Everything Better**_

"Shit, Cara!" Stiles yelled running around the table and over to the limp blonde laying on the floor next to the sleek metal cabinets. He rolled her head over to look at her face- no blood, no cuts, no external injuries. Stiles grabbed her shoulders and hoisted her up to lean against the wall, while making sure she was in a semi-normal sleeping position. Derek watched Stiles gingerly move her hair and fix her small pale hands- nearly physically sick at the sight. His groggy eyes rolled. He cleared his throat.

"Right, right, sorry." Stiles clambered up to stand back at the table, eyeing the electric saw with disdain. "So, uh, you weren't really serious about the whole," he paused, watching Derek's eyes narrow. "cutting off the arm thing. Were you?" Derek pushed the hunk of metal towards him, enjoying the sight of him squirming with disgust. Stiles lifted the saw and hit the switch, feeling it vibrate with life in his hands, imagining that slicing through an arm- Derek's arm. A ping of revulsion shot up his spine and he throw it back on the table.

Derek was already wrapping a taut elastic around his bulky arm. Bile rose in Stiles' throat.

"W-What if you bleed to death?" He asked, holding a reflexive hand to his mouth, watching Derek tie the band with his teeth.

"It'll heal if it works." Derek replied simply, finishing the tie. Stiles looked down at Cara and let out a reluctant breath. This was not the way he thought he was going to spend his night. He thought: take Cara home, go by the station to see if anything exciting was happening, maybe do some monotonous homework, grab a bite to eat, play some video games. Not cutting off someone's freaking arm.

"Look, I don't know if I can do this."

"Why not?" Derek demanded.

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the _blood_." His voice cracked, imagining the grotesque sight of a severed arm laying- pale, limp, and twitching- on the cool metal operation table. And the blood pouring from the still-living human with no arm. Derek slapped his hand on the table.

"You faint at the sight of blood, too?" Derek sighed, exasperated.

"No, but I might at the sight of a _chopped off arm_." Stiles retorted, exhaling a heaving breath.

"Alright fine, how about this," Derek voice grew weaker and slower, and his breaths growing more and close in between. "Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head." Stiles leaned back with irritation.

"Okay, you know, I'm so not buying your stupid threats anymo-" Stiles was cut off by a firm hand yanking his shirt collar over the table. "Oh my god- okay, alright. Bought, sold, totally. I'll do it. Kay? I'll do it." But Derek didn't release Stiles' shirt. "What? What are you doing?" Stiles asked, watching him heave over the side of the table. And then, thick, black, gooey sludge erupted from Derek's mouth and splattered onto the concrete ground. "Holy-god, what the hell is that?" Stiles wined.

"My body, trying to heal itself." Derek rasped, still bent over the side of the table.

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it." Stiles remarked, keeping his own gooey insides from spilling from his lips. Derek's eyes flashed up to Stiles.

"Now. You gotta do it now." Derek commanded, clenching his numb arm. Stiles glanced at it and shuddered.

"Look, honestly, I don't think I can."

"Just do it!" Derek yelled, his voice echoing off the metal table.

"O-Oh my god- okay, okay." Stiles conceded, reaching for the saw. He hit the switch to turn it on, feeling the familiar vibration in his hands, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. He held the saw over Derek's arm, about an inch below the blue elastic and blinked rapidly. "Oh god," he moaned. "Here we go!" He warned, mostly to himself rather than Derek.

"Stiles?" He heard, muffling through the clinic. He stopped, _I know that voice._

"Scott?" Stiles called back, looking in the direction of the doorway. Scott rushed into the room, first seeing an unconscious Cara in the corner, and then taking in Stiles holding an electric saw to Derek's arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" He ran over, watching as Stiles sighed in relief and sagged against the operation table.

"Oh, you just prevented a life time of nightmares." Stiles replied, feeling his mind relax for a split second.

"Did you get it?" Derek asked, grappling for the item that Scott was pulling from the pocket of his pants. Derek lifted it to his eyes sight, blocking out the dogs barking in the distance of the clinic to think.

"What are you going to do with it?" Stiles asked, part of him, though, really didn't want to know.

"I'm gonna," Derek took a deep breath, his mind growing foggy. "I-I'm gonna," He rasped, before falling to the ground in an unconscious heap. And also dropping the bullet down a drain in the process.

"No, no, no, no, no, no." Scott fell to the ground to grab at the bullet, his hands too big to fit between the grates. Stiles ran to Derek's side, calling his name and swatting at his cheeks to grant a response.

"Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?" Stiles exclaimed, shaking Derek's face.

"I don't know!" He yelled back, pinching at the bullet. He closed his eyes and pictured his claws growing, elongating from his fingertips to grip the bullet. He felt his fingertips tingle, and knew it was happening, but before his claws could even pierce through his skin, a small, pale hand was poking through the grates next to him, grabbing the bullet and holding it in front of his face.

"Looking for this?" Cara asked arrogantly. Scott smiled at her and snatched the bullet from her hand, running over to Derek and Stiles. Stiles was cradling his hand and still hadn't yet noticed the conscious blonde. Scott passed the bullet onto Derek, who reached his hand out to get help standing back up after being so rudely awakened by Stiles. Stiles glanced up at the third pair of helping hands, and saw the ashen and clammy face of Cara Rodgers. They only shared a brief look of relief, though. They had other things to worry about.

Cara had begun to wake up around the time that Scott ran into the room. Luckily, she didn't see Stiles getting ready to amputate Derek's arm, she probably would have passed out again. She was pretty content with watching the two boys handle the situation, given her pounding head and foggy eyes, she was in no condition to jump back into the fray. But, when she saw Scott- poor, adorable, apparently werewolf Scott- struggling with the drain, she couldn't sit by and watch any longer.

So, here she was, helping these two boys hoist this heavy man up so he could do whatever he needed to do with this bullet that Scott went through hell to get. Cara also took extra care not to let her eye sight drop to Derek's forearm, for her own well-being.

When Derek had gained his balance back, with both his arms on the table, he bit into the tip of the bullet, breaking the tip off and pouring its contents out in front of the three teens. Leafy green grains were scattered in a loose pile, resembling (to Cara, at least) a certain illegal substance. Derek flicked a lighter, one that he seemed to have pulled out of no where, and held it to the greens. They ignited and flew up into sparks of white-hot light, then died down immediately, making Cara, Scott, and Stiles sigh collectively in the relief that they wouldn't be burning down a building today. Blue smoke rose from the ashes as Derek scooped the remains into his shaky hands. And without warning, he slammed the the ashed into his open wound, making the boys wince and Cara turn away in disgust. He used his finger to push the ashes farther into his bullet hole, eliciting a yell of pain from the elder werewolf. His wound glowed blue and a blue smoke rose from his arm. Derek thrashed and flung himself onto the ground, still yelling in anguish. His body contorting with the pain of his wound burning and healing and Cara peeked through her fingers for a moment before retreating back behind them. There was only so much she could handle.

And with one last animistic roar of pain, the hole in Derek's arm closed and the black lines retreated back to their origin.

"That," Stiles began, glancing at everyone in the room. "Was awesome!" Cara looked at the lanky boy in amusement. "Yes!" Derek sat up, taking a deep breath of finality. _Live to die another day_, he thought to himself.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked after giving Stiles a less than pleased look.

"Well, except for the agonizing pain?" Derek retorted, using the table to hoist himself up.

"Guessing the use of sarcasm is a good sign of health." Stiles remarked. Derek's eyes didn't soften, and not a single_ "thank you" _was muttered from his lips.

"Okay, we saved your life." Scott told him. "Which means you're going to leave us alone. You got that?" He looked at Stiles and Cara- his defenseless humans. "A-And if you don't I'm gonna go back to Alison's dad a-and I'm gonna tell him everything-"

"You're gonna trust them?" Derek asked. Cara wondered: _What does Alison's dad have to do with anything?_ She felt the weight in her figurative back pack of life getting heavier and heavier. "You think they can help you?"

"Why not?" Scott shrugged. "They're a lot freaking nicer than you are."

"I can show you exactly how nice can be." Derek told him cryptically as he pulled his shirt on over his head.

"W-What do you mean?" Scott asked, reluctantly. Derek looked at the two humans.

"You two, beat it." He directed at them, then turned to Scott. "You, come with me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Cara said, stopping anyone from moving any further. "I'm done putting up with your bullshit, alright? I get it, you're some big bad werewolf who could probably make my death look like a freaking animal attack. Alright, I get that. But, what just happened, was _us _saving _your _life. Not the other way around. And I'll be damned if you brush that off like it was nothing." She looked at Stiles and let out a vicious breath. "Especially towards Stiles. He put up with your bullshit more than anyone today. Not to mention the smell. He deserves a freaking _award_." Stiles pursed his lips and looked at Derek, fearing for not only his puny little life, but for Cara's also. Without answering, Derek brushed past Cara, knocking shoulders with her, and exited the operation room, muttering under his breath for Scott to follow, knowing that he heard.

"Get her home." Scott said, before leaving the room to follow behind Derek. Stiles momentarily wondered how they were getting to where they were going. Since Scott was on his bike and Derek got a ride from Stiles. A long, annoying, painful ride. But, decided to forget about it, and looked at Cara.

"You want that ride home now?" He asked, smiling sheepishly. Cara looked up at Stiles and felt all her anger and irritation and confusion from tonight dissipate.

"Yeah,"

* * *

"Um, the next turn on your right." Cara said, feeling a nervous shaking take over her hands. This next turn on the right, was the entrance to her trailer park, Beacon Meadows. It sounded more like the name of a retirement home. Stiles made the turn and drove slowly over the chronic speed bumps. "U-Uh, it's- uh- it's that one. Right there." Cara pointed at the light blue trailer, with the white wooden porch that was chipping and an uneven middle step. And grass that was a little longer than all the other front yards and a drive way that had pesky weeds poking through the subtle cracks. All the blinds were drawn and the front door was closed, not a single light on inside. She sighed.

"This is it," Stiles repeated, putting the car in park and leaning back from the steering wheel.

"Yup," Cara muttered. "Home sweet home." She winced and looked over to gauge Stiles' reaction. But he didn't really have one.

"So, since I know where you live now, I could give you a ride to school in the mornings." Stiles offered, glancing at Cara from the corner of his eye. Cara's lips pursed and she broke her gaze from her retched house to the adorably awkward boy next to her. She nearly smiled.

"I don't know, I did pass out in your care. Twice. Don't know if I should take anymore chances like that." She said with a tisk. Stiles chuckled.

"Yeah, well. The way things are going, you should just stay away from me if you pass out at the sight of blood." And suddenly, the atmosphere became sullen.

"So, everything you said, about Scott being a werewolf, that was all true?" Cara asked, not breaking her eyes from the side of Stiles' face. He sighed, rubbing his hands on the steering wheel.

"Yup," He replied.

"If this wouldn't have happened, would you have told me?"

"Do you want the truthful answer? Or the not-truthful one?" Cara sighed, leaning back in her seat. "Look, Cara, the reason I didn't tell you was because I wanted to keep you out of it. I didn't lie to you on purpose. I was protecting you. Well, at least I thought I was."

"I always sort of knew that something shady was going on with you and Scott." She said, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them to look at Stiles. He was already watching her. "I-I just never thought that anything like this could be possible. It's-It's," Cara struggled to find the right words. "It's fucking awesome." Stiles laughed. "Have you seen Scott wolfed out? Is that the proper term? Wolfed out? Wolfed up? Shit, is he like- is he like a superhero or something? Does he grow teeth and claws and hair? Does he look like the Wolf Man? Or like Taylor Lautner? Like, a real wolf, I mean. Dude, I wanna-"

"Whoa, calm down. I can only answer so many questions." Stiles interrupted with a laugh.

"Okay, okay. Sorry." She conceded, resting her bushy head against the head rest. "Can you promise me something?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure, what is it?" Stiles asked, resting his left wrist against the steering wheel, trying his absolute best to look cool.

"Don't ever, ever, ever, _ever_, keep something like this from me again. Okay? This kinda thing is way too freaking cool to be kept out of." Stiles smiled a little, thinking about how many times he'll probably break that promise.

"I promise." Cara smiled a real genuine smile. One that made all the negative, scary thoughts leave Stiles mind without him even realizing it.

"How about we go get some ice cream or something? All this passing out and life saving has given me an atrocious appetite." Stiles chuckled, reaching for the gear shift to put the jeep in reverse.

"That sounds amazing."

* * *

"Most embarrassing thing you've ever said to a crush. Go." Stiles said, using his plastic ice cream spoon as a make shift flag, waving it around like a gavel. Cara bit her lip and swallowed the remains of her mouthful of ice cream, thinking.

"Hmm," She hummed. She was never really an embarrassing child. She knew when to hold her tongue, and she was usually the one who left them nervous and babbling. _Usually_. "When I was, like, thirteen I think I told Matthew Crew that he was a beautiful human being." Stiles laughed, throwing his head back and opening his mouth in that way that makes Cara's heart beat a little bit faster and the corners of her lips rise a little bit higher.

"Seriously?" Stiles wheezed. "Matt Crew? Oh my god, that's gold." He said around his bubbling laughter. Cara waved her hand at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Alright laugh it up. I was in love back then, okay? Well, at least I thought I was." She laughed, taking a bite of her double chocolate chunk sundae with a smile. "Okay, your turn. Most embarrassing thing you've ever done. Go." Stiles removed the spoon from his mouth and hummed in thought. Thinking of all the things that he's done that could be considered embarrassing. That was a very, very long list.

"Probably-uh. Oh god," He rubbed his chin and chuckled. "This is hard. Um. Probably when I was eight and climbed the biggest monkey bars on the playground to impress Lydia Martin." He recalled. The memories of his childhood washing over him in a wave of sadness and nostalgia. He wished times could be easy like that again. "That was- uh- a failure."

"Huh, Stiles Stilinski had a crush on the a great and powerful Lydia Martin? I never would have guess." Cara teased. Stiles tapped his spoon on the rim of his cup.

"Had, yeah. I-I'm not crushing on her anymore. Nope. Not a single little bit." Stiles muttered, feeling partly awkward for talking about this with Cara, but also feeling like they were close enough. They were currently keeping probably the biggest secret in the history of secrets, so. Telling her who his childhood crush was seemed irrelevant. But it still made him uncomfortable.

"Oh, don't kid yourself, Stiles. You're head over heels for that girl." _And I have no idea why_, she thought. "How long have you had a crush on her, exactly?" Cara asked him, twirling her spoon in the cold gooey chocolate syrup left in the bottom of the cup.

"Oh jeese," Stiles itched his head habitually, like he usually does when he's thinking. "Since the third grade. She asked to borrow my crayon box and I was hooked. She's uh, she's something else."

"You got that right," Cara muttered, pushing her cup of ice cream away from her and tossing the spoon inside. "She sure is something."

"Okay, enough about me. Who are you crushing on?" Stiles pressed, still shoveling his peanut butter and chocolate swirl sundae down his apt throat. Cara's heart began to beat.

"No one." She said, too quickly.

"Oh come on," Stiles said. "We're friends. You can tell me who you're crushing on." Cara bit her lip. Her fearless feeling left her and all that was left was her six year old self who was scared of being abandoned again.

"U-Uh," She pushed a piece of curly hair behind her ear and looked down at the white table. "Honestly, um-"

"Sorry, guys. We're closing." A woman in the Dairy Queen uniform said, picking up the empty cups in front of them. Stiles smiled at the woman, standing up. Cara did the same, thanking her lucky stars for the interruption. Stiles led Cara to the front of the Dairy Queen they were in and held the door open for her.

"Alright well, I gotta get you home so I can go home. It's getting late and my dad will probably be wondering where I am soon. Your parents are probably wondering the same." Cara nodded, putting her petite hands in her hoodie, which had been placed back over her torso the second the pair had walked into Dairy Queen. It was freezing in there.

"Yeah," She said, apathetically. They both got in Stiles' jeep and he drove slowly, as slow as he could, back to Cara's trailer park. The drive was pretty quiet, the only sound was the radio playing Young The Giant quietly in the background. Until a question started nagging at the back of Stiles' mind.

"Did you not want to tell me where you live because you were embarrassed?"

The question hung in the air for a while. Dangling, like a mobile over a newborn's crib. Cara felt that if she took a breath she would swallow it. That single question, she was sure, would be the death of her. The ending. Poof. Gone, she would be. Her eyes didn't leave the road moving in front of the jeep, not daring to look at the boy next to her.

"Yes," Stiles sighed.

"Cara," Stiles started, his grip on the steering wheel loosening as if he was holding the blonde herself. "I would never, ever, judge you. You know that right?"

"Stop it, Stiles." Cara said, wishing to be anywhere but this jeep.

"No, I'm serious. I like you, and I'm your friend because of you. Not because of your clothes or your house or how many friends you have. You are an amazing person, Cara. And what your house looks like won't change that in my eyes, ever." Cara sniffled and blinked. There were pools of water sitting on the edge of her eye lids, but she was determined to not let them betray her and fall. "Cara, lo-look at me." Green eyes met brown with a small spark that neither was sure they felt, or if they imagined it. "You don't have to be embarrassed around me. Trust me, no matter what, I've got you beat when it comes to embarrassing details." Cara gave him a watery chuckle and rubbed her right eye.

"Thanks Stiles."

"For what? I'm only being honest. You don't owe me anything for that." She punched his arm, making him laugh as he pulled in her driveway. "Well, this is where you get off."

"Looks that way." Cara said, not wanting to get out of the car. She wanted nothing more than to stay there, in that moment with him. Looking at each other, just looking. Nothing too serious, nothing that would end up hurting her in the end. Her hand rested reluctantly on the handle.

"I'm picking you up for school right?" Stiles asked as Cara opened the door and sadly hopped out, looking back at him through the open window. Cara smiled, one of those ones that makes Stiles forget who Lydia Martin is, if for a moment.

"If your offer still stands."

"Well, of course." He replied, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to every syllable.

"Then, yes. I would like that." He smiled, and bumped his fist on the wheel in triumph.

"Sweet,"

"Yeah," They looked at each other for a moment through the opening of the window, breathing the cold air of the night.

"I-"

"We-"

They laughed. And for some reason, it felt too much like an awkward first date. The unbearable part where both of them doesn't know who is going to go for the kiss first. Cara proves to have been it, as she opens her mouth to speak before Stiles.

"I should go." Stiles nodded, looking at his hands for a moment.

"Yeah," They shared one more smile. One that felt different. Like, they had learned a new secret language and were talking back in forth in the beautiful tongue. Cara turned around and walked up her walk, up the stairs, and to the door. Opening it with a turn of the handle, stopping in the doorway to look back at Stiles with regret and a wave. _I should have said something. I should have made a move. I should have done something big. I should have kissed him. _She watched him drive away.

And Cara had never wished she had a best friend more than in that moment.

* * *

_A/N_

_I was listening to Collide and was feeling extra fluffly. So, thank Howie Day for this chapter. _  
_Hey, look at that, I actually updated on the day that I said I was going to. Well, it's the 2 in the morning on Sunday, but close enough for me. _  
_TRAILER FOR THIS STORY IS UP, OMG. THE LINK IS IN MY BIO. GO CHECK THAT ISH OUT. ITS HECKA RAD. I HAVE NO CHILL._  
_Any who, I hope you guys have had a great week so far, and you should come back on Saturday for the next update. _  
_Love to all who have read to this point. And special love to the 47 fave-ers and the 77 followers. The thanks to the 15 reviewers I have._  
_Reviews keep me motivated, and we all are happy when I stay motivated._  
_Follow my tumblr: stileofassgard. It's pretty great, I think._

_-blahicantthinkofaname xoxo_


	11. Chapter 9

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Chapter Nine: **Hypersensitive, Sensitive Werewolves; Fed-Up Humans; and an Interesting Chat With Our Favorite Ex-Best Friend** _

* * *

The steady beeping of the electronic clock next to Cara's bed was what woke her up from her dreamless sleep. A heavy hand moved to turn it off with an aggravated smack. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and Cara could hear her mom in the kitchen, doing God knows what. But the incessant tune of the nineties song _Nothing My Love Can't Fix _was playing from the radio in the kitchen, pans being clanged around. The smell of pancakes carried into Cara's bedroom, making her remember when she was young and her mom would make breakfast before she went to school and her dad went to work.

But instead of thinking about that, she rolled herself out of bed and started to get ready for the day. Since Stiles was picking her up for school, she had a little bit of time to sleep in, but not much. She felt pressured to get ready quicker, not wanting to keep Stiles waiting. She also didn't want to look like a bum like yesterday, either. Cara rooted through her closet, throwing things around that were not deemed, in her book, to be '_cute_.' Not surprisingly, she didn't have much to choose from. _Too long. Too short. I don't like those sleeves. Ugh, why did I ever buy that? I need a job. Are those ruffles? Gag. Was this my mom's from the nineties? Oh god, is that still legal? Nope, definitely not. _But, after much deliberation, she happened upon a dark green shirt with a tiger head printed onto the front. It must have been floating around the back of her closet for a while, because she didn't even remember wearing it. She paired it with some jeans and a grey hoodie-which she placed next to her back pack until she was ready to leave-and black shoes before going into the bathroom to plug in her mother's straightener, which, weirdly enough, was already warm.

By then, the smell of golden brown pancakes in the kitchen was straight up mocking her. So, throwing her hair into a temporary pony tail, Cara milled into the kitchen. And _nothing _could have prepared her for what she saw.

Steve was sitting at the table, reading the paper. A steaming mug of coffee sitting in front of him. He didn't look disheveled or like he had just rolled out of bed and the cane that his grandfather gave him was resting against the table beside him. He never really uses it, since he doesn't ever go anywhere, and when he does, he doesn't care enough to find it. Susan, well, this shocked Cara the most. Susan had on a dress. Now, Cara had never, in her life, seen her mother wear a dress. And if she had, it was so long ago she couldn't possibly remember. But, not only was Susan wearing a dress, but her usually frizzy red locks were pin straight and her bangs were clipped up in a clip. Make up adorned her face, perfume radiated around her, and not a pack of cigarettes were in sight. A stack of golden brown pancakes sat on a plate next to the stove, steam floating off them from being freshly removed from the griddle.

"Uh, mom?" Cara asked, unsure, as she stepped onto the wood paneling of the kitchen/dining room. Susan looked up from clipping an old pearl earring into one of the holes in her ear to smirk at her daughter.

"What do you think?" She asked as she spun in a 360 degree circle. Cara blinked. _What the hell is this? The twilight zone?_

"Um, did I just drop in on the wrong family? You _are _my mom, right? Susan Marie Duncan?" Susan laughed, waving her hand as she dished up two plates of pancakes.

"That's exactly what I was going for. This is perfect. Absolutely full-proof." Susan giggled excitedly, clapping her hands.

"Okay, are you going to tell me what's going on?" Susan placed the two plates on the table along with butter and a bottle of maple syrup. One for Steve and one for Cara- Susan wasn't hungry.

"Eat your food and finish getting ready. I'll tell you before you leave for the bus."

"I-I'm not riding the bus." Cara told her, slowly sitting down in the wobbly kitchen chair. "My friend's giving me ride."

"Since when has Boyd had a car?" Susan inquired, searching through the cupboards for the bag of sunflower seeds she kept for emergencies. If she wasn't going to smoke today, she needed something to do with her mouth.

"It's not Boyd." Cara reiterated. "I do have friends other than him, you know."

"Since when?" Steve asked from the opposite end of the table, making Cara roll her green eyes.

"Since always," She lied, picking up the fork beside her plate to pick at the flapjacks. "And he's gonna be here soon, I don't wanna make him late the first time he gives me a ride. He has lacrosse practice before school." Susan smirked even wider, chomping on her mouthful of sunflower seeds.

"Oh, it's a boy, huh?" Cara rolled her eyes and pushed the plate forwards. _Not hungry_.

"I'm gonna go get ready. I'll be right back." Susan waved at the blonde as she walked in the direction of the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, her hair was as straight as it was gonna get, her teeth were brushed, her deodorant was applied, her perfume was spritzed, and one last check in the mirror. For some reason, she felt like she had to live up to an imaginary standard. Like, someone was watching her every move and she couldn't disappoint. Sighing, she flicked the light off and left the bathroom.

"Are you gonna tell me what's up now?" She called while retrieving her bag and jacket. But, when she stepped out of her room, she was met with an empty kitchen and a car horn coming from outside. She sighed. Zipping up her hoodie, turning off the lights, and making sure her irresponsible mother turned the stove off, she ran outside to the blue jeep waiting in her drive way with a smile.

"Hey," Cara said, pulling open the door to hop in. Stiles reached down to turn the Creed song blaring through his speakers off and smiled at the blonde.

"Hey," He replied. Cara sighed as she laid down her bag on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the seats she's come to love. "What?" Cara rolled her head to the side, looking at the side of Stiles' face.

"Just," She began, not wanting to lie to Stiles now that everything he's kept from her was in the open. She wanted to be as truthful with him as he has been with her. But, every time she wanted to open her mouth, her tongue became lead and her thoughts weaved into patterns she couldn't recognize. "I just didn't get a very good sleep last night." Cara was met with unamused eyes.

"I thought we talked about this."

"What?" Cara asked defensively. "We didn't get home until late last night. I'm being honest." Stiles shrugged, sticking one hand up in surrender- keeping the other one on the steering wheel.

"Okay, okay. Whatever you say." He looked at her while the jeep was paused at a stop sign. "Your hair's straight."

"Yup," Cara nodded, impulsively reaching a hand up to stroke a lock of her flat-ironed hair. "I straightened it."

"Thank you for enlightening me on that profound deduction." Cara rolled her eyes towards the roof of the jeep.

"You're welcome." Stiles waited a beat before speaking again.

"I like your curly hair." Cara ducked her head to smile, wider than she has in a while, still clutching the strand of hair between her finger and thumb. She didn't think _anyone _liked her obnoxiously curly hair, she sure didn't. It mostly just got in the way.

"Thanks." She recovered. "I grew it myself."

"Hmm, you don't say." Stiles muttered, turning the jeep into the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School. "You grew it _and _straightened it. I don't know how anyone keeps up with you, Rodgers."

"I don't either, Stilinski." She replied as she unbuckled her seat belt. Stiles turned off the jeep with a sad pull of the key. "It's a mystery to everyone."

"No kidding," He muttered, opening his door to leap out onto the asphalt of the student parking lot. Cara followed suit, but with much less pizzazz, as Stiles would call it. Cara would call it spastic flailing, but that's a debate for another day. "Hey," He said while they walked side by side towards the brick building the county decided to call a school. "You need a ride after school?"

"Uh," Cara but her lip in thought. "Sure. That sounds better than walking." She shrugged. "Just no unexpected surprises this time, huh?" Stiles scratched the back of his head with an awkward chuckle.

"We can only hope." He sighed, pulling the entrance door open for Cara to glide through. She made sure to only smile while Stiles was behind her. Cara was going to agree sarcastically, maybe give up a witty comment. But a floppy haired boy came running up to snatch Stiles.

"Dude, come here, _now_." Scott said, dragging Stiles by the arm away from Cara.

"Whoa, whoa, hold up." She called, running after them and blocking them from getting any further away. "No more secrets, remember? I'm apart of this little weird-as-shit werewolf club now. We're done with secrets. _I'm _done with secrets." Scott looked at Cara painfully. He knew that if he kept this little snippet from her, she wouldn't fully trust him. And right now, he needed her trust. He grunted.

"Allison wants me to go on another group date with Jackson and Lydia." Stiles snorted.

"After how well the last one went?" He joked. Cara rolled her eyes. Now _this_ she didn't give the slightest damn about.

"Yeah, that's what _I_ said."

"Just tell her you're hanging with us tonight." Cara offered with a minuscule shrug.

"You guys are hanging out tonight?" Scott asked, intrigued. Stiles also looked at her with questioning eyes also.

"No, but that's what you can tell her. We'll cover for you or whatever." The blonde reiterated with a wave of the hand.

"But I can't lie to her. That's even worse than doing something I don't want to." Just the thought of lying to Allison made Scott's stomach do flips. Cara shrugged.

"Either lie, or go on a group date with Lydia and Jackson. Take your pick." Scott made a painful grunting noise and fell limply against the lockers behind him. Stiles snorted. "A little white lie won't hurt her if she doesn't know."

"I guess not," he muttered. "But, what if she does find out?"

"Who's gonna tell her?" Cara inquired. "I certainly won't. I can probably guarantee that Stiles won't. You're the only wild card here."

"Yeah, she won't hear a peep from me." Stiles assured Scott, clapping him on the shoulder lightly. Scott shook his head.

"This whole thing feels wrong. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and go out with them. I mean, conspiring to lie to my girlfriend? It's all just too shady for me." The blonde and the buzz head both nodded simultaneously. A smirk spread on Cara's face though, as she flicked her hand in Scott's direction, mocking a whip.

"Wha-ch." She laughed, giving Scott a shove. He shook off her hands.

"Whatever," he mumbled, giving her the evil eyes. She shrugged.

"I need to go to class. I'll talk to you guys at lunch." The two boys said their goodbyes and waved at her as she turned to the direction of her locker. Cara swapped her books out and made her way to her Math class.

* * *

"Bad news guys," Scott announced as he sat down at the table for lunch. Cara and Stiles, who were both already seated at the table with their trays of food, looked up at the boy with questioning looks. "There's no way I'm getting out of this group date," he finished with a sigh. Cara snorted.

"Why didn't you just tell her you don't want to go?" She asked him. "I don't know her that well, but she didn't come off as the type of girl who would force you to do something you don't want to do."

"She's not! But she's Allison and I'm me and I don't have a manly bone in my body when it comes to her." Stiles rolled his eyes and nodded his head in agreement.

"Wanting your girlfriend happy isn't unmanly." Cara argued. "But, not being able to tell her that you don't want to do something might be a little bit on the pansy side. I mean, you're a werewolf for Christ's sakes." Stiles chortled around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Scott threw a pea at Cara playfully. She smirked at him because she knew she was right.

"So, any plans for tonight?" Stiles asked openly to the table after he swallowed. "Except for you Scott. We know what you're doing tonight."

"Yeah, crawling through a bathroom window to escape Lydia and Jackson's gross simultaneous hate-flirting. Better hope that wherever you guys go, they have big windows."

"Shut up," Scott threw another pea. "What are you doing tonight?" He asked Cara with an defensive eyebrow raised. She looked down at her food.

"I don't know. Nothing as far as I know." She dragged her fork across her tray before she laid it down on the table. _Lost my appetite. _

"Well, you can hang out with me." Stiles offered shakily. Cara's green eyes met his auburn ones, but she quickly looked back down at her food.

"Yes! Oh, my god, that's perfect." Stiles' and Cara's heads snapped at Scott's sudden outburst. "I tell Allison about your guys' plans tonight and she's bound to invite you guys along with us. I mean, she's Allison." Cara tensed. _No way,_ she thought, _no way in hell. _

"Um, definitely not." She said shamelessly. "There will be no me and group date in the same sentence, let alone same situation. I refuse to subject myself to that, thank you very much." Scott blinked.

"Oh-kay then."

"Sorry. I just-I," Cara stuttered. She wasn't used to tip toeing around someone's feelings so they wouldn't get hurt. And surprisingly enough, she was afraid of hurting these people's feelings. Of hurting Scott's feelings. Afraid of losing him, and Stiles, as a friend. "I'm not good with people."

"Mhmm, you don't say."

"Especially groups. I mean, you guys are okay. But, two is my limit. I'm surprised I haven't spontaneously combusted by now." Scott nodded understandingly, letting a breath of a chuckle pass his lips. Stiles cleared his throat.

"W-Well, we could still hang out," he offered. "Just because Scott has to suffer doesn't mean we do."

"You know," Cara started. "I could do you one better. How about Scott puts on his big boy pants and tells Allison that the idea of a double date with Lydia and Jackson sounds about as fun as playing leap frog with a prickle bush; and me, you, and Scott all hang out tonight instead." Stiles bristled.

"Well, I-I mean that sounds great and all but-"

"Ha ha, very funny, Cara. You're a comedian." Scott cut in. Cara shrugged with a smirk.

"Hey," she said, unintentionally ignoring Stiles. "I'm just saying, Allison would probably respect you a lot more, as a man, if you could tell her that you don't want to go tonight." Scott sighed.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I don't think you give me enough credit."

"Oh, I don't?"

"Nope."

"Well then prove me wrong, Bieber." Cara shot, choosing to use Scott's floppy hair against him.

"Ouch," Stiles winced audibly from next to Cara.

"Okay," Scott put his hands up in surrender, "that's enough of that. You've made your point. I need to sack up and just tell Allison that I don't want to go."

"Hell yeah, you do."

"But-"

"No buts, alright? Scott, you are a strong independent boy-man-child-werewolf-thing who has every right to tell his girlfriend about the fact that this plan that she has to spend the majority of the night with Lydia and Jackson sounds freaking terrible." Scott cringed.

"Maybe."

"No, not maybe. Definitely." Cara leaned back from the table, folding her arms across her chest in finality. "Scott. I'm not _trying _to be a bitch. I promise. I'm just trying to make sure you know how to stand up for yourself. But, if you don't want to, I'm not going to force you. In fact, I'm done talking about this. What you do is up to you." She gripped her tray in her small hands and stood from the table with the intention of dumping her mostly full tray of lunch in the garbage. But her attention was grabbed by a tall, dark-skinned boy retreating from the cafeteria in a hurry. She glanced back at Scott and Stiles quickly. "I'll catch up with you guys later."

"Wait, where are you going?" Stiles asked, standing from his chair in concern.

"Nowhere. I'll just catch up with you later, okay?" He nodded and sat back down as he watched her run out of the cafeteria, forgetting about her tray and bag. Stiles sighed.

Cara's feet carried her all the way out to the end of the hallway to grab the shoulder of the boy she was chasing after. "Boyd!" He wrenched his shoulder out of her grip silently. "Hey!" She yelled, offended. "Vernon Boyd, don't you dare walk away from me right now!" Boyd turned around with slits for eyes and a heaving chest at the use of his full name.

"What the hell!" He yelled. Then he winced, hoping that no teachers in the surrounding classrooms heard his booming voice.

"What do you mean _what the hell_? I should be asking you that," Cara snapped back mercilessly. Now, with Boyd, she knew he could take her sharp tongue and unfiltered words. She was more worried about not being forceful _enough _rather than being _too_ forceful. "First, you tell me that I need to learn that my actions have consequences. Then, you ignore me for a month. And now, you run away from me when I'm trying to talk to you."

"Obviously, _I _don't want to talk to _you_," Boyd retorted. "Why don't you go back and play buddy-buddy with Chuckle-Heads One and Two?" Cara's jaw dropped with vehemence.

"Don't you dare drag Stiles and Scott in to this. They have done nothing wrong. They've been there for me a hell of a lot more than you in the last month. I needed you, Boyd. Multiple times. And where were you? Off teaching me some lesson?"

"I was trying to show you that I'm not always going to come running when you snap your fingers."

"That's not what I needed! My whole world practically blew up in my face last night. And I needed you, alright? I needed you and you were gone."

"You think I didn't need you?" Boyd replied with petulance. "You stopped calling after the third day I didn't answer. Too busy with your new friends, right?"

"No, I was not _too_ _busy with my new friends_. What the hell? Boyd, I'm not the one who didn't answer. What was I supposed to do? Sit and wait around for you to call me back? That's not how I work. What kind of girl do you think I am?"

"I know exactly what kind of girl you are, Cara. I knew that you wouldn't sit around and wait on me. But a tiny, little part of me hoped that you wouldn't just give up the way you did." Cara's hard eyes softened slightly. But she didn't lose her tough stare.

"I'm not the one who gave up, Boyd." She said with conviction, folding her arms over her middle. "Who was running from who, huh?"

"I was running because I didn't want to hear whatever you had to say." Boyd gave her one last look before he turned around. "Hope you have fun with your friends tonight. Get drunk for me," he said as he left.

Cara's jaw locked in anger, her chest heaved and clenched with trepidation, and her fists curled in on themselves with an amount of enraged madness that made her knees wobble. It took all of her will not to turn around and swing on the locker next to her. Instead she insufflated a deep breath through her nose and marched back to the cafeteria to get her bag. _See how long I stay in this God-forsaken place._

* * *

"What's she saying?"

"I don't feel comfortable doing this."

"Suck it up, oh my God. You want to know what's going with Cara, don't you?" Stiles asked Scott in impatience. They were both standing next to the entrance door of the cafeteria. Stiles had convinced Scott to use his werewolf super hearing to listen in on whatever Cara had run out to do. Scott was having mixed feelings about the whole situation. Of course he wanted to know why Cara was the way she was. Why she was so cold and why she lied so much. But, this was not the way to go about it, surely.

"Well, yeah, but don't you think _she _should tell us instead of us eavesdropping on her private conversations? That's really, really wrong."

"You say it like I'm gonna lose sleep over it or something," Stiles snorted.

"Yeah," Scott deadpanned, "you should. Would you like it if Cara had a hypersensitive, werewolf friend who could hear conversations from twenty feet away and listened in on you all the time because she was afraid you were lying and wasn't even one-hundred percent sure that you were?" Stiles looked at Scott incredulously.

"That's irrelevant. Just tell me what's happening."

"No."

"Oh my _God_." Stiles threw his hands up with a huff. "Fine, fine. You win, you freaking pansy." Scott smiled despite the insult and walked back over to their table, Stiles following behind slowly. Not so shortly after, Cara came storming up to the table. Stiles' brows furrowed in worry. "Whoa, what's up?" She didn't answer, just reached around him to grab her bag. Before she could turn away from him and leave again, Stiles grasped her arm. "Cara! Talk to me, what's up? What happened?" Scott just stayed in his seat and spectated the events unfolding in front of him. He didn't feel that himself getting involved would help anything, anyways.

"Nothing! Nothing fucking happened, I-I just wanna go home." She shrugged off his arm and turned to escape from the cafeteria. _No, _Stiles thought, _she cannot lie to me again._

"Cara!" He chased after her, leaving Scott in the dust behind them. "Wait! Just freaking wait a second!" She didn't stop. She didn't even look back. She went steadfast all the way out to the front of the school. It blew her mind, almost, that not one single teacher had noticed the commotion. "Stop, Cara!"

"What, Stiles! What do you want from me!" She yelled, finally turning to look at Stiles.

"I want you to stop freaking lying to me! I feel like we've had this conversation like forty freaking times! You can sit there and act all offended that I kept something from you, but that's all you do to me! I came clean with you, alright? I came clean about everything and you can't do the same for me." Cara sucked in a deep breath through her nose.

"I'm sorry." Stiles shook his head and took a step towards Cara, only to have her step back.

"Don't be sorry, Cara. Just tell me the truth, _please_." She looked at him for a second before she couldn't anymore. His eyes, so innocent and pleading. She couldn't look into those big, brown eyes and lie.

"I-I can't."

"Why the hell not?" Stiles asked, aggrieved.

"Because I can't!" She exploded. "I don't know what you want me to say!" Stiles shook his head in disbelief, rubbing the back of his head out of habit. Cara took a small breath. "I'm not good at talking. I'm sorry."

"Don't you trust me?" Stiles inquired in a pathetically small voice. "I-I trust you, Cara. I almost trust you with my _life_. I've told you everything! I trusted you with not only my secrets, but Scott's. But you can't tell me anything? How is that fair?"

"It's not," Cara answered quietly.

"Then why are you being like this?" She shook her head and backed away from Stiles slowly. Stiles was ready to break into a run to stop her from getting away if she tried. "Why can't you just tell me? What's so bad that you can't tell _me_?" Oh, she wanted to. But her tongue was quicksand and every time she tried to speak her words got sucked back into her throat.

"I-I don't know."

"_You don't know?_ I-I-what does that even mean?" Stiles exclaimed. He watched her shrug helplessly and sighed. "We can't keep doing this, Cara. _I _can't keep doing this." He started to back away from her, turning his back on her. She panicked. Cara had never felt so much fear fill her so quickly in such a long time, she forgot what it felt like for her chest to cave and her stomach to drop and her legs to almost give out from underneath her. Everything in her told her to run but her feet wouldn't move. Everything in her told her to scream at his back but her words got stuck in her throat. Everything told her to stop him, but she didn't know how.

"St-" she started to say, taking one step towards him. But she didn't need to, because Stiles was turning around to look at her again. His abrupt turn made Cara freeze in her stance. They looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what the other was going to do.

"You understand why I'm so upset, right?" He asked after a moment. She nodded silently. "Then why are you being like this?"

"You know me well enough by now, Stiles, to know that I'm not good at telling people how I feel." He sighed again, letting the air out through his nostril as he pursed his lips.

"I care about you, Cara. I can help you if you'd let me." Cara's lip found it's way in between her teeth.

"Stiles," she started, "I appreciate how much you care. I really, _really _do. I'm glad that at least someone around me cares. But I need to work through these things on my own. I need to figure out this stuff by myself before I can tell anyone."

"You don't have to do this stuff on your own! You have me!" He quickly added: "A-And Scott, too. We can help you through it. Nothing is easy when you do it on your own. Trust me." Every feeling Cara ever felt over her sixteen years of living hit her hard in the chest. She imagined it felt the same for Stiles, too, though. She wanted to cry. Oh, did she. She wanted to just let it all out to him right then and there. The overwhelming feeling of despair sank low in her chest and it felt as though her sadness was clogged in her throat and she could barely catch her breath. They were coming, the tears were. And she wasn't sure she was going to be able to stop them. The only thing she could do was run. But she couldn't. Not from Stiles. Not after what he just said.

Stiles saw her throat bobbing and her hand fly up to her mouth to catch the hiccups escaping her mouth and he had no idea what to do. She was going to cry. Cara Rodgers was going to start crying right there in front of him. Should he hug her? Should he tell her everything was going to be okay?

"C-Cara?" Stiles said gently, reaching his hand out to touch her shoulder lightly. She jerked away from his touch out of habit and his hand curled in on itself. "I'm sorry."

"No!" She yelled at him. "Don't apologize. Y-You haven't done a single thing wrong. I'm the one acting like a basket case." Stiles chuckled dryly at her lame attempt to joke while she was trying to hold back tears. He wondered what could have happened to her that she reacted so emotionally to him just _saying _that he was there for her.

"You aren't acting like a basket case. You're being a human. Human's have emotions." Cara nodded pathetically. "Why don't I convince Scott to ditch Allison tonight-" Cara scoffed around a sniffle, "-and we can all hang out. Like you wanted." It was weird, having someone want her to be so happy that just _acting _like she was going to cry made them back out of everything they said and give her what she wanted. The closest thing to that that she had was Boyd, and he would never take back something he said just to make her happy. If she didn't care so much about Stiles, she would find a way to use that against him.

"Yeah," she said, shaking her head, "that sounds really fun actually." Stiles smiled and pumped his fist in the air.

"Awesome, great, wonderful. Okay, you're good now? Not going to spontaneous combust on me, are you?"

"No," she replied with a hefty sigh, "I think I'm good."

* * *

_A/N (Just look a the bold for a quick read I guess)_

**_I'M SO SORRY WOW WHERE HAVE I BEEN I DON'T EVEN KNOW I JUST KNOW THAT I'M SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN A MONTH I SWEAR I'VE JUST BEEN SUPER BUSY AND I KEPT GETTING ON AND TRYING TO ADD TO THE CHAPTER AND I JUST DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO WRITE SO THIS IS WHAT YOU GOT._**

_Okay, well, now that that's out in the open, I have some stuff to tell you guys._

_**I have a freaking** **job**._

_I know, I'm holding for the applause._

_It's an amazing accomplishment for me, actually, and I'm glad that I'm going to be able to start saving for my own place and a car and everything else. But, unfortunately, that means **I'll probably be updating even less**. Ugh, it hurts you just as much as it hurts me. _

_Also, **I have another plot bunny for a new story** floating around my laptop. If you watched the author's video in my bio all the way through(proud of you tbh) then you know that it's for The Amazing Spiderman and I literally didn't tell you anything about it, I only told you what the OC was going to look like. _

_I'm trash, I know._

_But, I should have that published if not by the end of this year, then early next year. So, **if you're into Marvel and you like Andrew Garfield's face, then you should check that out once it's here. **_

_Alrighty, next on the agenda, I not only have a job now, but **school has literally plowed me over like a steam roller.** I can barely breath. I have to get a GPA above a 3.39, which means I cannot skimp out on school work. Sadly. Which is really just another thing holding up my updating schedule._

_I hope you guys can understand that **I'm only one person**. **I love all of you with all of my heart** and I hope you guys don't hate me for having been gone for so long. _

_Special **thanks go to Kalou, MsRose91, myharlequinromance321, Kayela-Brown-1228, and AnimeLover-DarkKnight321 for the lovely reviews.** Also, I would like to thank the whopping** 92 people who follow** this story and the outrageous **59 people who have favorited** this story. You guys blow my mind._

_My Tumblr: stilesofassgard_

_My Twitter: stilesofassgard_

**_Again, sorry for being gone for so long and thank you for reading this long ass authors note oh my god_**


	12. Chapter 10

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it._

**The Unexpected**

_Chapter Ten:** Confessions of a Teenage Basket-Case**_

* * *

**February 9, 2003**  
**10:53 PM**  
**Sunday**

_The air was cold and thick. The light from the street lamps lining the curb shined an ambient glow on the slick asphalt road. The side walks were slippery with dirty, slushy snow that had fallen weeks ago, but was yet to melt away. A pair of shivering hands curled tight, tucked inside the soft haven of a wind breaker. _

_"You shouldn't be here," a cold, unmerciful voice declared into the frigid night air. _

_"Yeah, well. There are a lot of things I shouldn't do." _

_"No. I mean, she doesn't want you here. It's been two years-"_

_"One year, eight months, and eleven days," he corrected fiercely, his emerald eyes shining in the dim light. _

_"Oh big whoop, you kept count. That doesn't change a damn thing. She don't want you here." _

_"Susan, just let me see her. I-I'm starting to finally get my life back on track. I'm a year clean and my therapist said that the perfect prize for being clean for so long is seeing Cara again. I miss her like you wouldn't believe." Susan rolled her tired eyes and folded her withered arms over her chest. She felt a whole spectrum of emotions seeing Zach again for the first time in over four months-since the last time he dragged his sorry ass to Beacon Hills in an effort to see Cara again-but the most prominent feeling was fury._

_She was furious that he was clean, not for her, but for Cara._

_She was furious that he was getting his life together, also not for her, but to get Cara back._

_And she was furious that his prize for these achievements was not to see her, but to see Cara._

_"I don't give a damn that you're clean and you're life is back on track or whatever the hell else you _think _you got going for you. Cara does not want you here. We are getting on with our lives perfectly well with out you in it. And I'd prefer to save her another heartbreak and keep it that way." They both became painfully aware of the wind whipping around them, and at that moment, Susan wished for nothing more than for it to carry Zach far, far away._

_"I left so I could get clean for her. For you. Remember that promise we made? To not be like our parents? I was becoming that. I couldn't let Cara grow up with some dead-beat junkie for a father like I did. I needed to leave so I could give her the life she deserved. The life she _still _deserves. She needs her father, Susan. She needs me."_

_"Bullshit she needs you. She hasn't _needed _you in a long time. She doesn't even think about you anymore. All you are to her now is a memory, Zach. A painful, distant memory."_

_"No, Susan, that's what I am to _you_." Susan flinched at the accusation. "I'm her father and she needs her father."_

_"I can give her a father that's ten times as better as you ever were. We don't need you." _

_"Don't be her," Zach told her with the gentleness he used to have. Before things got complicated. Back when they were just two kids crazy in love, their family just beginning to bloom._

_"Don't be who?"_

_"Don't be your mother. Bringing home men at all hours of the day and night to _give her a father_? That sounds like it comes straight out of the Loise Locke handbook for destroying childhoods." Susan shook her head. She knew it was awful. She knew she was becoming the exact woman she's been trying so desperately not to become as of late. But if it's a father that Cara needs, than so help her God, it's father she will get._

_"Do not talk to me about my mother. I am not her."_

_"But you'll become her. Do you really want Cara to grow up the way you did?" _

_"Don't you dare make this about me! _You're _the one who left her! I stayed! I stay with her everyday. Even when things are hard and I just want to run, I don't! I make her breakfast every morning and I watch her get on the bus every day and I make sure she does her homework every night . Do not compare me to my mother. She was never there for me the way I'm there for Cara. I-I love Cara." It was difficult to say it. Susan and Cara don't exactly trade affections on a daily basis. But she does love her, deep down in her heart. She loves her very much. Just in a non-conventional way. _

_Zach winced as she yelled at him and realized that he was never going to get her to understand why he left. She was just far too screwed up._

_"I love her, too." Susan shook her head, her lips curling in disgust._

_"No, you _think _you love the six year old you left two years ago. You don't even know her anymore."_

_"I could! If you would just-"_

_"No," she snapped, itching for a Camel Light. "Period. I don't want to see you around here ever again, do you understand me?" Susan pointed a jagged finger at Zach before turning from him and walking slowly back towards the car that she had left running by the curb._

_"She'll resent you for this someday, Suse! She'll find out why I never saw her again and she'll hate you for it!" He yelled at her with rushed words before she could get her twitchy driver door open._

_"Kiss my ass, you piece of shit!" And with that, she slammed the door shut and peeled away from the curb and the father of her only child. For good, she hoped._

* * *

"Thanks for driving me home, Stiles." Cara's feet hit the pavement below her gently as she stepped out of Stiles' rumbling jeep. He nodded, tapping his fingertips absently on his steering wheel.

"No problem," he waved her off. "I'll be back in a little bit to pick you up for our, uh, group thing. Scott'll be with me." Cara leaned against the side of the jeep after she closed the door, talking to him through the ajar window.

"And where will you boys be whisking me off to this time, huh? Some underground werewolf club? Is Scott gonna use his werewolf powers to conjure a massive thunderstorm so we can play a rousing game of baseball?"

"He's a werewolf, not Thor," he chuckled. "And baseball is really more of a vampire thing."

"Oh, I didn't realize the supernatural community had such a strict social structure. My apologies."

"Yeah, well, vampires are snobs anyways." Cara and Stiles laughed for a moment before her chuckles slowly died and her smile dropped.

"There aren't really... They don't actually exist... Do they?"

"No," Stiles answered, sensing her question before she even asked it. "Well, I mean, not that I know of. I've never met one, if that's what you mean."

"Oh." It was silent for a moment as they looked at each other, each one taking in the other's features. "I should go."

"Yeah." She smiled and waved before turning around to walk up the steps of her house and through her front door. Cara let out a heavy breath and leaned against the door, grinning. She was starting to feel as if Stiles was grasping at her very heart, taking her over from the inside out. But before she could be too engulfed in her infectious thoughts, the ear-piercing, unmistakable sound of shattering glass made her jump nearly two full feet in the air. She squeaked and clutched her heart in surprise. Pushing off the door, she ran to the source of the clatter.

"I never wanted to see you here again! Have I not been clear about that for the past nine years? Leave. Now. Before Cara gets home and-"

Cara could not have walked into her home at a worse time. In the middle of the kitchen, her mother stood, still dressed to the nines, arguing with a man who struck her as vaguely familiar. Susan's face flushed with anger, arms shook with left over adrenaline, eyes wide with a crazed insanity that was unparalleled to any expression they had ever held before. Shards of the busted item-A plate, maybe?-lay forgotten on the floor below them. The man looked at Cara as if she was a relic lost to him for years and had suddenly turned up at the most unexpected time, at the most unexpected place.

"Cara?" His voice was soft, gentle. If he wasn't so struck by how beautifully she had grown up, nearly a grown woman by now, he would have run to her, hugging her tightly with out the intention of ever letting go again. "Is-Is that you?"

"Who the hell are you?" He would have chuckled at her audacious reply if he hadn't felt struck in the heart by her lack of knowledge of who he was. "What the hell is going on? Mom? What happened?"

"This man was just leaving," Susan seethed, shoving a piece of rebellious hair behind her ear.

"_This man_? Is that what I am to you now?" He was beyond affronted at the way she referred to him.

"_Drop it_. Leave." Susan gripped his thick arm in her dainty fingers, as if she was going to throw him out herself. He wrenched his arm out of her grasp, his eyes flying back to the small blonde standing a mere few feet from him after not seeing her for the past nine, nearly ten now, years. It was like running a marathon for a larger majority of your life, then finally reaching the finish line and not knowing what to do with yourself.

"I've been waiting ten years for this, Suse. I'm not going anywhere."

"Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Cara was not in the mood for anymore of this verbal tennis. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.

"It's me, Cara," he told her, grabbing her arms gently, desperately. "It's your dad."

The memories hit her all at once. She looked up into his glassy eyes and could remember looking into them as a little girl. She could remember his calloused hand holding hers, guiding her through a park or a store. She could picture herself looking up at him with big, green, doe eyes, and him smiling down at her with his own emerald ones. But, clouding those memories of happiness and love were the memories of loneliness and desperation. Cara thought back to when she sat alone in her room, crying, cursing God, asking him why he took her dad away, why he let him leave. She remembered hating him. Much like she does right now. She recalled all the times she wanted so desperately for her dad to come back and take her away, whisking her off to some fancy new place in an entirely new country.

And worst of all, she remembered the very last time she saw him.

* * *

_"Daddy!" Cara cried in laughter, giggling uncontrollably as her father's wiggling fingers attacked her sides unmercifully. "Daddy, no! Ah! Stop!" He smiled wide at her, watching her words being swallowed up by the laughter bubbling from her tiny mouth._

_"Say it and I'll stop," he told her simply._

_"Okay, okay!" Zach stopped tickling her sides and neck and armpits at her sudden proclamation. His large hands held her arms softly, waiting to hear her say what she refused to utter only a few seconds ago. "I love you more than there are stars in the sky." His grin grew larger as he wrapped his little girl in his arms. _

_"That's right, pretty girl." Cara giggled again, pushing from his arms and running off to play with the toys scattered all around the living room. She didn't know it at the time, but they were saying goodbye. _

_Zach stood from kneeling on the floor between the kitchen and the couch, feeling the nagging in the back of his throat. He was sweating a little around his neck, his fingers were shaking minutely, making it hard to even focus. It was time, he decided, it was time to change. Cara also didn't know that her lovable, fun, caring daddy was fighting an internal battle of disastrous proportions inside the cold depths of his own head. His mind was practically made up, he was leaving. He didn't know for how long, and he didn't know exactly where he was going. But he was going._

_Susan came in from having a smoke break outside, dropping her pink lighter into the bowl on top the dryer that was adjacent to the back door._

_"Hey, babe?" Zach looked at her with large, sorrowful eyes. She knew, right then, what was about to happen. _

_"Yeah?" Susan tried to keep her voice steady, but she knew that it cracked at the end. _

_"I-I think I'm gonna run to the Gas-N-Sip and grab some smokes." She nodded without looking at him. She hoped he was telling the truth, but knew that he wasn't._

_"Okay." _

_On his way out, he stopped at the front door to look back at his little girl. She had a toy horse in one hand and a tiny toy dog in the other, running them around the floor, playing. Her crazy blonde hair was laying on her shoulders and her legs were crossed Indian style underneath her. He debated just turning and walking out, not saying anything else. It sure would've been a hell of a lot easier. But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to do it. _

_"Cara," he called, feeling his voice catch in his throat. She looked up with an unmistakable grin on her tiny face. "I'm leaving, I'll be right back." The lie nearly burnt his tongue._

_"Okay, daddy." He smiled sadly at her. _She'll understand when she's older, _he kept chanting silently in his head. He turned to sulk out the door, his eyes burning with emotions that he couldn't even begin to comprehend. But thudding feet stopped him from shutting the door behind him. "Wait! Daddy!" He stopped and turned back to his beautiful little girl._

_"What is it, pretty girl? I gotta go." _

_Looking up at her despair stricken father, she said: " I love you more than there are stars in the sky." _

_Before he would let himself cry, he patted her head and turned to make the trek to the Beacon Hills Bus station, punctuating this chapter of his life with a definite slam of the front door behind him._

* * *

Cara closed her eyes for a moment. _Why is he here? After all this time, why would he come back now? _She didn't realize she had clenched her fists until she could feel the biting pinch of her nails digging into her palms. "I don't-I don't understand. Why-Why-" Her eyes slowly opened to see her father, this recognizably clean and shaven and almost successful looking man before her, looking at her like she was made of solid gold. "Why are you here?" Her eyes were no longer glazed over with memories, they were burning with passionate fury and betrayal. When he didn't answer her right away, she stomped up to him, pounded her tiny fists on his chest, screaming: "_Why would you come here? Why are you doing this? What do you want?"_

He grabbed her fists to keep her from hitting him anymore and answered gently, "I-I wanted to see you, Cara. I missed you."

"No! No, you don't get to say that. You don't get to miss me! You left me. You left _us_." She yanked her arms from his grasp and backed away from him, as if he wasn't real, as if he was some sort of sinister apparition sent to destroy her very being. For all she knew, that's what he was there to do. His eyes were full of emotion and burning anguish.

"I tried to come back, I did! I-I-"

"Shut up!" She screamed, loud enough to elicit worry in Susan, who was standing out of the way of the two. "Shut up, shut up! You piece of _shit_! I hate you!" Cara was a powder keg of pent up anger and aggression, and she was bursting at the seams. "I barely recognize you, you've changed so much since you left. You-You just get up, say you're going out and that you'll be right back. You leave me here with her, for all these years. That's bull shit!"

"Believe me when I say that it was not my intention to leave you behind. I thought-I thought I was helping you by leaving, by getting help." Cara's eye brows dropped low above her eyes in confusion and rage and she almost flung herself at him again, fists flying. But she kept her cool as much as she possibly could.

"You left us and you knew full and well that you were doing it. You weren't _getting help_. You were _getting out_."

"I was trying to do right by you! I was trying to leave before I ruined you like my parents ruined me. I was becoming a monster!" Cara hadn't the slightest clue of what he was even talking about, but couldn't let go of the violent soreness gripping her insides long enough to ask.

"I stayed up crying every night, asking God why I wasn't good enough for my daddy. Why my mom had to drive him away. Why he wouldn't come back and save me from her. I hated it here! I hate Steve, I hate this stupid fucking trailer, I hate this trailer park! I hate you!" Zach looked away shamefully, risking a wicked glance at Susan, who stood to the side, looking down at the broken glass littering the floor still. "I've hated you my whole life. But after a while, I stopped caring, because I knew you weren't coming back. I was done wasting my life hating you and using all my energy to think about all the ways I would tell you that when I finally did see you again. I don't care why you left. You-You didn't find the decency to tell me back then, I don't wanna hear it now." Zach felt like she had struck him in the gut with a jagged knife and twisted it with every venomous word she spat.

"She never told you, did she?" Cara almost told him to go fuck himself, and that no matter what he said it didn't matter because it wouldn't change the fact that he left her and her mom. But she couldn't push away the nagging curiosity in the back of her mind, wondering what all of this was even about.

"She never told me what?" Zach sighed, feeling the anxiety roll of Susan in rigid waves from behind him. He stepped closer to Cara, she stepped back.

"I was addicted to drugs, Cara. I was losing my mind, I was becoming a raging drug addict. I left so I could go to rehab. And I tried coming back every year until you were thirteen to see you, but her mother never let me so much as through the door."

It was eerily silent for a few moments, before the screaming started.

* * *

Trying to kill time before the dreaded _group thing _with Scott and Cara, Stiles was lumbering around the police station, hoping to catch a little bit of action to ease his anxious body. _Weird how a possible bank robbery or home invasion would calm me rather than a soothing bath and a skin mag_, he thought curiously to himself, amused. The police scanner behind the front desk murmured quietly with soft static. Nothing particularly exciting was happening. Some cops were seated at their desks filling out paper work, some were snacking on some food from the vending machine in the break room.

Then the phone rang, and Stiles hoped to God it was someone calling to inform them of a robbery in progress.

"Beacon Hills Police," Maria said into the phone, a dull tone in her tired voice. She nodded at whatever the voice said with a small hum. "We'll send someone over right away ma'am, thank you." She hung up, clearly it wasn't anything worth worrying about and it certainly wasn't anything that would make Stiles any less bored. "Jenner," she called out to the officers sitting that their desk. Michael Jenner was the youngest and newest deputy, usually sent out on the odd, boring jobs no one else wanted. He stood from his desk, mildly irritated.

"Yeah?"

"Domestic Dispute at the trailer park. Didn't sound serious but the old lady who called was all sorts of spooked. Said she heard glass breaking and yelling."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll head over and check it out. What's the lot number?" Maria scrunched her nose to remember what the frantic old lady had told her.

"Uh, 34." Stiles jumped up, practically knocking the chair over behind him and ran into his dad's office, eyes wide. Maria and Michael watched on in resigned amusement before Michael walked out to his cruiser to investigate the call.

"Dad!" Stiles burst through the door without knocking.

"What the hell, Stiles?" The Sheriff yelled, his heart beating out of his chest from the unexpected surprise. "What is this-"

"It's Cara," he cut in, breathing heavy, not exactly knowing what to do or say.

"What about her?" The Sheriff was more interested now, and didn't like the look on his son's face.

"There was a domestic dispute call, it was for her house-her trailer. A neighbor called it in, saying she heard glass shattering and yelling. I-I don't-she-"

"Calm down, calm down, let's go." Stiles nodded, turning and running out to his dad's own police cruiser, vaguely hearing him explain to Maria why he was leaving and why Stiles was acting like his hand just went through a wood chipper.

After they started towards the park, Stiles called Scott and cryptically told him that Cara was most likely in trouble and he needed to get his ass to her house right now, and then he gave him specific directions on how to get there from his house before hanging up. The car was apprehensively silent after that and when they finally pulled up to Cara's tiny, beaten down trailer, Michael was standing outside the house, impatiently tapping his foot as he knocked on the door. Stiles had never wished he had asked for Cara's number more than in that moment.

Once Stiles and the Sheriff got out of the car, they both heard the yelling. The rabid yelling coming from the inside of the trailer did nothing to quell Stiles panicked and rapid heart beat.

"This is the Police, open up!" Michael yelled before looking back at the Sheriff and Stiles, confused. "Sheriff? What are you-"

"Cara!" Stiles yelled, pushing past Michael to pound on the door. The commotion both on the inside of the trailer and outside had attracted a curious crowd on the street in front of the trailer. "Cara, it's Stiles!" He vaguely heard the words "stupid slut" and "fucking arrested" before the door was wrenched open by a crazy-eyed, middle aged woman dressed in a gown and pearls.

"What the hell do you people want?"

"Um, we're the police and we received a disturbance call. We're here to check it out," Jenner explained calmly, if not nervously.

"Where the hell is Cara?" Stiles asked the woman, his brows low on his eyes. Feet bounded up the steps behind them and he assumed it was Scott, he only relaxed a little.

"None of your damn business. Now, I'd thank you kindly if you'd all leave us the hell alone." She made to slam the door in their faces but the Sheriff's sturdy hand stopped it in it's tracks.

"I am the Sheriff of Beacon Hills and until you tell me where the girl is I will _make it _my damn business." Stiles puffed his chest and pointed at his father, nodding.

"Yeah. What he said." She let out an aggravated growl and turned from the door. Stiles chanced a peek inside, seeing so much glass on the floor that it looked like every dish they owned was thrown out of the cupboards. A few drops of blood were mingled with the glass, also, and his stomach nearly fell to his feet as he traded a look with Scott, and judging by his face, he smelt it too.

When they turned back, there was Cara, a wash cloth held to her palm, her face flushed-the left side of it specifically crimson-her forehead slick with sweat, and her chest rising and falling quickly, rapidly. Her wide, green, wet doe eyes washed over all of them before settling on Stiles.

"Stiles?" She asked. "What are you doing here? Why are the cops here?" Her eyes flitted from Stiles to Scott and back to Stiles again. Instead of answering her, he reached for her hand with his own.

"Why are you bleeding? What happened?" She gently took back her hand and held it to her chest, eyeing the Sheriff and the Deputy once more before looking back into Stiles' maple eyes.

"_Why are they here?" _She insisted, looking back into her trailer apprehensively.

"Cara," Stiles said firmly. He was done with this. This had gone too far and he would not let Cara out of this one without an explanation. He had thoroughly had it with her evasive maneuvers. He was _going _to get answers. "A neighbor called and said there was a domestic dispute." Cara nodded, holding her bleeding palm a little bit tighter. She looked up at the Sheriff.

"Thank you for rushing down here, but everything's fine. Just a little disagreement, that's all." Scott nodding at her hand, knowing how petrified she was of blood, knowing that part of her shakiness was probably just due to the fact that she had an open wound.

"Then what's that?" Cara looked down at her hand, seeing a small red patch seeping through the cloth. Her stomach churned uncomfortably.

"I dropped a plate and it broke," she explained, "I cut myself trying to clean it up." Scott could of smelt her lie from a mile away.

"Why were you guys yelling?" The Sheriff pushed, clearly not buying her shit-story just as much as the rest of them.

"It was my mom's favorite plate. She was so mad that I broke it that she threw all the other plates that came in the set, yelling about how without that plate the whole thing is useless. My mother's a freaking nut." The Sheriff shifted on his feet and rested a hand on his belt uneasily.

"Can you ask your mother to step out here again, please?"

* * *

After Zach told Cara that Susan had stopped him from seeing here for all those years, she went absolutely feral. Cara practically threw her dad to the side and got right up in Susan's face to scream at her with all her might. Telling her how useless she was, how she was trash, and that if it were up to Cara she would rather her be the one who left and not her dad. Susan, unlike Zach, did not calmly take the verbal beating with strong shoulders. She shoved Cara back a few feet and got in her face right back. Susan told her how much she wished she would have left like she wanted to all those years ago and that the apple didn't fall far from the tree, in the sense that Cara was trash too.

Zach tried pulling Susan away, he tried yelling over them to stop, he even tried throwing another plate on the ground to grab their attention. But instead of it making them calmer, it only fueled their rage.

And until that fateful day, Susan had never raised a hand to Cara. She had never more than given her a spanking for being bad since she was seven years old.

"No wonder he left you! You're an old, crusty bitch who doesn't love anyone but herself!" The crack of Susan's left hand colliding with Cara's pale cheek was so loud it nearly made Zach fall to his knees from the sheer force of it. Cara was thrown to the ground and her hand landed on a piece of glass, lodging itself into her palm. Zach rushed to her, screaming and cursing at Susan for what she did. He helped a frozen Cara to her feet while Susan threw every glass dish they owned onto the linoleum floor in her endless fit of madness. Zach carefully picked out the glass and found a wash cloth to hold to Cara's hand to stop the bleeding, telling Susan that she would regret every laying a hand on their daughter.

That's when the banging started.

"This is the Police, open up!" They heard. Panic rushed through Susan and she turned to Cara, telling her:

"You stupid slut, you better not get me fucking arrested." Cara tried to stop her shaking hands while Susan answered the door. Zach held her shoulders lightly under his rough fingers and only released her when Susan came back, grumbling about some stupid teenage boy who wanted to see Cara.

* * *

While the Sheriff spoke to Susan in hushed, furious tones next to his car on the curb, Stiles and Scott were standing in front of Cara in the shade of the tree that divided her yard the neighbor's. Her head was lowered shamefully, and her hand were still shaking as she held the cloth to her clotted palm, listening to them berate her.

"We are always so worried about you, Cara. I ask you again and again about what's going on with you and you've yet to tell me what really happened in there. I-I was so freaking worried that I dragged my dad down here, I called Scott down here, I practically put my own foot on the gas when my dad wasn't driving fast enough. I thought you were dead or something!" Scott was nodding along beside him, not sure if he should jump in with his own concerns or if Stiles' scolding was enough.

Cara looked up, her eyes hard and her jaw set. "Have I ever told you anything about my family?"

She didn't ask in a way that was harsh or rude, she was genuinely unsure if she had ever shared a single detail with her two relatively new friends. They shook their heads and she sighed.

"My dad left me and my mom when I was six." Just getting those words to pass her throat was a struggle and she nearly choked on them on their way up. Scott eye's softened, understanding her loss. "I never knew why and I hated him for it. After he left, my mom became a cold-hearted bitch. Which made me hate him even more, because he left me here with her all alone. After a few years, she met Steve and brought him into our home. Another few years and they were married, still are." Cara breathed deep. "Them two are the laziest, most neglectful people who have ever walked this planet and I don't want you to feel sorry for me." Stiles' and Scott's faces were already set in pitiful expressions and they made Cara want to throw herself off the nearest cliff. Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but Cara cut him off before he could get a word out.

"Let me finish," she instructed. They nodded. "I can handle my own with them. I have since I was little and I will until I leave. I don't need you worrying about me and I don't need you checking up on me. I don't want you to treat me any differently." The two boys nodded reluctantly.

"What happened tonight?" Stiles asked softly, looking down at her wrapped hand and back up to her painfully red cheek. She sighed once more.

"My dad came back." Stiles looked at the blonde man talking to the police, his eyes hard and murderous.

"He did that to you?" Scott asked, gesturing to her bruised face. Cara frantically shook her head.

"No, no. He didn't do anything wrong." They gave her unappeased looks, as if they didn't believe her. Which they didn't. "He shows up out of the blue, right? Ranting about how he was addicted to drugs when he left and that he was leaving us to get help. I thought it was a total crock of shit at first. But then he tells me that he'd been trying to see me every year until I turned 13. That my mom's the one who wouldn't let him see me."

"And you believed him?" Cara looked at Scott, unoffended.

"I believe a stranger over my mother any day."

"So that's why you guys were fighting? Because your dad outed your mom's secret? Is she the one who hit you?" Cara nodded carefully, chancing a glance at her mom. Susan was still shaking with adrenaline and her hair was beginning to frizz out as she talked to Stiles' dad.

"But what was all that glass? Why did it look like a tornado tore through your china cabinet?" Stiles was not letting up on the questions now that he finally got Cara to open up. No way was he ever gonna let her clam up again.

"I don't really know, one plate was broken before the fight and my mom broke all the others in a fit of rage after she slapped me. It's all kinda blurry afterwards."

Stiles stepped forward and tested his luck by wrapping her in an awkward hug. It was warm and comforting and Cara wished only to cling onto him for a few more seconds before he released her, letting Scott hug her for a few seconds also.

Scott felt like he was stepping on eggshells when he asked her if she needed anything. But to his surprise, she calmly replied, "Yes, actually. Can I borrow your phone?" He reached into his pocket and handed it over to her.

"Why?"

"I have friend who I really need to see right now."

* * *

**A/N**

**YIKES IT'S BEEN LIKE THREE MONTHS SINCE I UPDATED I'M TRASH NO NEED TO TELL ME I ALREADY KNOW.**  
**Work has been killing me and school is as sucky as ever. But I took every free moment I had to chip away at this eventful chapter. But now it's here finally and I just hope that I won't take as long to update again. **  
**Who knows, maybe I've finally found a rhythm and I can write for this story and my upcoming one happily and contently. **  
**And also, I have no idea how police stations work but I figured that people in Beacon Hills who know what's up just call the station directly and skip the 911 operater. Who needs a middle man, anyways, am I right?**  
**Special thank you's to_ AnimeLoveer-DarkKnight321_, _MsRose91_, _Guest_, _CurbItKirby_(especially you bc you made me cry), _winchesterxgirl_, _Fabooreader_, _lolsmileyface6_, and _Just-keep-dreaming004_ for all the lovely reviews. I've never had to thank that many people and while I would like to think it's because of the story it's probably because it took so long to update. **  
**Love to the 82 people who have faved and the 117 people who have followed, you guys make my world go 'round.**  
**And now, I'm off to bury myself in the wonderful world of Teen Wolf to prepare for the next few chapters. **  
**(My ten year old brother just told someone to go fuck themselves on his X-Box live game so my mind is all discombobulated. Please forgive me for this lame author's note)**

**blahicantthinkofaname xoxo**


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